


The Q Experience

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-18
Updated: 2007-12-27
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8091109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Returning to Enterprise from a diplomatic mission, Archer and Phlox discover that the rest of the senior crew are not quite what they used to be. And Q makes sure Archer learns his lesson. Crossover, Next Generation. (07/05/2004)





	1. No Place Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Dedicated to all poor suffering babysitters, kindergarden teachers, parents and older brothers and sisters out thereâ€”don't let them get you!  
(Revised and updated 12-28-2007 by Sita Z)  


* * *

Picard sat on the left warp nacelle of the Enterprise D and stared at the stars flying past. Under normal circumstances he would have been killed in quite an unpleasant way, being out here without a space suit; not to mention the warp speed, which would have blasted him away into nothingness in a matter of seconds. Normally. Nothing happened, though.

Before Picard had the chance to ponder this fascinating phenomenon, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned his headâ€“and went from bemused to furious. Really furious. He should have frozen in the vacuum minutes ago, but instead he felt an angry heat building in his stomach. His famous self control was put to a hard test as he tried to keep himself from slapping the man sitting beside him right then and there.

"Mon capitaine! You seem a little indisposed! Queasy stomach? Don't like the view?"

"Q! I want an explanation! Why am I here?"

Q brushed a non-existent speck of dust off his Starfleet uniform. He was trying hard to maintain his usual expression of studied somberness, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Really, Jean-Luc! I should think you would knowâ€“a man of your age!"

Picard stared at him uncomprehendingly when Q put a hand on his shoulder and began in a fatherly tone of voice:

"Well, Jean-Luc, let me tell you about the birds and the bees..."

"I want an explanation why I'm out here!" said Picard through clenched teeth.

"Why didn't you say so?" Q sat back with an innocent expression on his face. "I was just trying to help."

"Q!"

"Alright, alright. I brought you here to show you my empire." Q waved his hand at the stars.

"What?"

"See, Jean-Luc, I just think that from time to time you need a little demonstration of power to remind you of your own insignificance. Otherwise you'll develop an exaggerated self-confidence," he added like a concerned parent.

Picard forced himself to take a deep breath. Then he answered, careful to keep his voice level:

"Q. It's only been two months since your last visit."

Q raised his eyebrows.

"Does that mean you're less than happy to see me?"

Picard didn't think it necessary to answer.

"Jean-Luc, I am really hurt. After all I'm only trying to support the positive development of humanity."

"Listen, Q." Picard folded his hands with studied calm. "You just interrupted an important meeting of the senior crew. Eight weeks ago you transferred my whole crew back into the Cretaceous period and Commander Riker did only narrowly escape the tyrannosaur. Not to mention your recent duel with Lwaxana Troi on my ship and the resulting damage. Would you be so kind as to explain exactly how you are supporting the positive development of our race?"

Q actually looked slightly sheepish. Obviously the mention of Lwaxana brought back certain memories that were not too pleasant.

"Well...I repaired the damage, after all."

"That does not answer my question."

Q sighed melancholically.

"You're right, Jean-Luc. But everybody needs to have a little fun now and then and it's just that you are my hobby. With the exception of Lieutenant Worfâ€“I like to occupy myself with intellectual challenging matters in my spare time."

Picard ignored that last remark. He saw that, as usual, it was no use arguing rationally with Q. Distract him, he thought. It worked before.

"How about occupying yourself with something different, for a change? There are others to this universe who could also need a little support in their development, you know."

His irony was totally wasted on Q.

"But I just get the most fun out of you! You are so serious, so noble, so enlightened, so heroic! You remind me of my youth!"

"You were a child once?" Picard hadn't intended to ask that question, but now he couldn't take it back.

Q smiled sweetly.

"Yes, once upon a time I was a little Q. Oh I was a little ray of sunshine..."

Suddenly Q looked at him as if he was seeing him for the first time. Picard's stomach gave a lurch.

"By the way: how about you, mon capitaine? Little Jean-Luc, was he a cute kid?"

Picard did not like the direction their conversation was taking.

"What are you talking about, Q?"

Q seemed to be seeing wonderful images in his mind.

"Yes, now that would be interesting...what was he like, little Jean-Luc...and Billy Riker...and little Worf...wouldn't that be lovely..."

He had already raised his hand when Picard grabbed his arm.

"No!! Please, Q-"

Q gave him a look of genuine surprise.

"Now, Jean-Luc, I'm taken aback! We are not going to beg, are we?"

"If that's what you want." Picard didn't care anymore; if there was even the slightest chance of sparing his crew the ordeal Q had in mind for them, then he wasn't going to pass it up for something as secondary as his personal dignity.

"Please, Q. Not this time. Everybody deserves a break now and then. And that includes even us. Pleaseâ€“take someone else this time!"

A moment's hesitation. Then Q snapped his fingers.

Picard returned to the briefing room as suddenly as he had disappeared ten minutes ago. He saw the surprised expressions on his senior officer's faces and realized much to his relief that nobody had transformed into a screaming infant. He opened his mouth to explain what had happened, when all of a sudden words formed on the monitor in front of him.

"I would have missed the element of surprise. Anyway, there are more heroes to this universe. Enjoy your break."

Picard took a deep breath and decided that he wouldn't even try to find out what that was supposed to mean.

###

"You know what I'm really looking forward to, Doc?"

Archer half turned in the shuttle's pilot seat and looked back at Phlox who met his eyes with a look of long-suffering patience.

"What, Captain?" he asked in his I-won't-ask-you-to-shut-the-hell-up-if-only-because-you're-the-captain tone of voice.

"I'm looking forward to talking to people who don't change their mind every two seconds and expect you to take their every mood into consideration," Archer said, not caring if he was driving Phlox crazy with his constant yammering. He simply felt the need to share his frustration about their recent diplomatic missionâ€“which, by the way, had gone less than smoothlyâ€“and Phlox had the misfortune of being the only person within hearing range. And after all, he was the captain.

Phlox sighed. "I know, Captain. You told me so at least...eight times, hm?"

Archer raised his eyebrows. "I'm sorry," he said, thinking that he was also looking forward to talking to someone else than the doctor, who had the enviable but also slightly annoying talent of maintaining a never-waving enthusiasm about each and every alien culture they encountered on their mission, however...eccentric they might be.

"You don't have to be sorry," Phlox said pleasantly. "I've noticed that for humans releasing certain tensions-"

"Alright, Doc." Archer held up his hands, knowing only too well what Phlox was about to say. "I'll shut up, but don't you get started about "certain tensions"."

"Whatever you say," Phlox said, sounding slightly disappointed. Archer sighed inwardly. He found that he was beginning to feel just a little irritated, both with the doctor and with this whole useless diplomatic mission.

When they'd made first contact with the Kareedians, their Head of Government hadn't been too eager to talk to any outworlders, saying they were not interested in visitors. After half an hour of fruitless conversation with some government official Archer had given up, said his goodbyes and told Travis to set a course to a nearby asteroid field. They'd been mapping the field for about two hours when they were suddenly being hailed, and a quite flustered government official appeared on the screen, announcing meekly that the Head of Government was now ready to talk to them. Archer had been quite annoyed, but he'd agreed anyway, not wanting to miss the chance of making friendly contact with a new species.

Friendly contact with a new species, that's a good one, Archer thought sardonically, punching away at the navigation controls with a little more force than necessary. He and Phlox had taken a shuttle and flown back to the Kareedian homeworld, hoping they would be able to find some common ground with these people after all. When they'd entered orbit, however, that official had contacted them again, apologizing profusely, telling them that the Head of Government was feeling a bit indisposed and wasn't inclined to receive any visitors at the moment.

Only Phlox' quick intervention had prevented an interstellar incident. Telling the official that this was "no problem at all, hmmm", the doctor had quickly cut the connection, leaving Archer to scream and holler at a blank screen. So they'd left again, and after a four hours of being stuck in this shuttle with his ever-smiling CMO, Archer found that he was really looking forward to being back in his quarters on Enterprise where he could vent some of his frustration by not feeding cheese to Porthos and throwing his water ball against the wall.

Leaning back in his chair, Archer looked out the front window and raised his eyebrows in surprise when he spotted Enterprise's small white form in the distance. Checking the scanner's display, Archer noticed that they'd been in comm range to the ship for quite a while. No one had tried to hail them so far, though. Archer frowned.

"Archer to Enterprise."

No one answered. His frown deepening, Archer recalibrated the frequency settings and tried again.

"Archer to Enterprise. Please come in."

Again, there was no answer, and from the corner of his eye Archer saw Phlox turn in his seat.

"Is there something wrong, Captain?"

Archer shook his head and pushed a few more buttons on the console. "I don't know. They're not responding." He paused. "Archer to Enterprise. Hoshi? Can you hear me?"

Silence. Calling up the menu, Archer initiated a diagnosis check of the console and a few seconds later a beeping noise confirmed that there was indeed no malfunction in the shuttle's comm system. Phlox got up from his chair and bent over Archer's shoulder, looking at the display as well.

"They're not answering?" he asked and Archer rolled his eyes inwardly, his annoyance growing with every second.

"No, doc," he said. "Seems like they're not."

He pressed the transmitter button once again. "Captain Archer to Enterprise! Please come in!"

A moment of silence followed, then a faint crackle came from the speaker, and a tentative voice spoke up. "Hello?"

Archer's confusion grew. It was certainly not Hoshi who had answered his hail; the voice had sounded more like the voice of...a young girl.

"Who's there?" he asked, and there was a short pause before the voice answered again.

"This is T'Pol."

Turning his head, Archer met Phlox' eyes and saw his own confusion mirrored on the doctor's face. He'd just opened his mouth to say something when it hit him.

Just what I need, he thought. One of Trip's stupid jokes.

Pressing the button again, he strode for his most authoritative tone of voice. "Okay, now cut it out. I'm one very tired man and I don't need any practical jokes from my crew right now. So cut the crap and let me talk to Hoshi."

Another stretch of silence followed. "Hoshi?" 'T'Pol's' voice asked, sounding a little confused.

Archer sighed. "Yes. Hoshi. Please."

A rustling sound came from the speaker, and Archer drummed his fingers on the console, feeling more than a little annoyed. And here they say Starfleet officers have too much work on their hands, he thought. I bet it took Trip hours to do this.

Another sound came through the open channel and Archer heard T'Pol's voice again. "You need to say something."

A few crackling noises, then: "H-Hello?" a second voice whispered, sounding of all things like the voice of a three-year-old child. Archer buried his face in his hands.

"Will-you-please-stop-it?"

T'Pol's voice sounded even more bewildered as she answered. "I believe you wanted to talk to Hoshi? Did you not?"

"Okay okay." Archer swung around in his chair. "Let's put it on visual."

He switched a button, and a moment later he heard Phlox' voice. "How interesting."

Archer turned his headâ€“and froze. On the console's small screen there was a clear full-shot image of Enterprise's bridge, looking like it always did. Except for the officers. They were gone. The only people left on the bridge were a small dark-skinned boy sitting in the Captain's chair, grinning and waving at him, and a young Vulcan girl, maybe twelve years old, perched on the chair behind the comm console. A small Asian girl was sitting on her lap. The two little kids were wearing miniature versions of blue Starfleet overalls, while the Vulcan girl was clothed in what looked like a smaller replica of T'Pol's usual catsuit. The look on her face told Archer that she was just as surprised at his sudden appearance on the main screen as he was at hers.

"What...who are you?" Archer asked after a moment when he trusted himself to speak again. The Vulcan raised an eyebrow.

"I told you before. I am T'Pol. I believe you said you were...Captain...Archer?"

She said the name as if she'd never heard it before. Archer stared at her, not quite able to believe what was right in front of his eyes. It seemed like this was no practical joke, after all. It almost seemed like...

"Doc," Archer said in a low voice, "is this for real? Are you seeing what I am seeing?"

"I assume so, Captain," Phlox said in his usual level voice. "We are both looking at the same screen after all."

Archer cleared his throat, looking back at the Vulcan girl.. "Umm...how did you get to be on my bridge?"

"This is your bridge?" the small boy in the command chair piped up. "Nice one. Ours isn't half as big."

"Do not interrupt," the Vulcan said, casting a stern look at him. "I am having an important conversation with Captain Archer."

"Where are my officers?" Archer asked. The girl raised an eyebrow.

"What officers?"

"The people who are usually on this bridge," Archer said a little helplessly. "The grown-ups. Did you see any of them?"

"There are no "grown-ups"," she said, shifting the little girl on her lap. "And I do not know how we came to be here."

Archer stared at her, trying to comprehend what she was telling him, when he suddenly felt a hand on his arm.

"Captain," Phlox said, "we're approaching Enterprise."

Startled, Archer looked up and realized that they were indeed close enough for him to read the registration number on the ship's hull. Quickly, he changed course and began navigating the shuttle towards the hangar doors.

"Listen," he said to the Vulcan girl who was watching him curiously, "weâ€“me and Dr. Phlox hereâ€“we're on a shuttle right now, and we need to take that shuttle into Enterprise's shuttle bay. I don't have the slightest idea what's going on here, but right now I need someone to open the hangar doors for me."

She tilted her head to one side. "You want me to help you?"

He nodded. "Do you think you can do that?"

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Captain Archer."

"Alright," he said, pausing for a moment. "You need to operate from the helm...from that console in the front."

She nodded gravely and got up, placing the little Asian girl in the chair in front of the comm console.

"That one?" she asked, walking over to the helm.

"Yes, that one," Archer said. "Okay...see that bunch of buttons on the right? The white ones?"

"Indeed, Captain Archer," she said. "There are eight white buttons, arranged in a horizontal linear fashion."

"Right," Archer said. â€œNow I need you to push the third button to the leftâ€“wait!" he exclaimed when he saw her reaching out for the button. "First I have to get the shuttlepod into position. I'll tell you when."

"Agreed, Captain Archer," she said, her hand hovering over the helm's console. Casting her another concerned glance, Archer turned back to the navigation controls and brought the shuttle into position under the shuttlebay doors.

"Now!" he said. Sure enough, a moment later the hangar doors opened and the shuttle shook slightly as it was being pulled into the ship.

A minute later the pod stood on firm ground, and Archer waited for the small green light that would tell him the shuttlebay had pressurized again. When it lit up on the console, he turned back to the screen.

"We're coming to the bridge," he said. "Wait for usâ€“and don't press that button again."

She raised an eyebrow. "Of course not," she said indignantly and Archer saw Phlox hiding a smile. He himself, on the other hand, didn't feel like smiling at all.

"Come on, let's go."

###

"So your name really is T'Pol?" Phlox asked once again. The Vulcan girl, who was still standing in front of the helm, crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Indeed, Dr. Phlox," she said. "I told you so before. Several times."

"And you don't remember how you came to be here?"

"No," she said, sounding a little irritated. "I told you that before too. I was tending to my mathematical studies when I suddenly found myself here in this room. I do not know what happened."

Archer had taken a seat behind the science station and was just about to initiate a full internal scan of the ship when he felt someone tug at his sleeve. He looked down and his eyes fell on the anxious face of the little Asian girl. He'd never noticed her climb out of her chair, but now there she was, standing next to him, looking at him with wide dark eyes.

"Where is my mom?" she asked. Archer blinked and cleared his throat.

"Erm...now...that's what we're trying to find out," he said not quite truthfully. The girl never took her eyes off his face.

"So where is my mom?" she repeated earnestly. Archer swallowed.

"Well...I don't know, but it looks like she's not here at the moment."

The girl stared at him for another two seconds, then her eyes filled with tears. "I want my mom!"

"Yeah...well, that's...that's a problem," Archer said, looking at Phlox for help. The doctor, who'd been talking to the small boy who was still sitting in the command chair, took mercy on him.

"There, there, it's alright," he said, picking up the crying girl. "I'm sure we'll find a way to get you back to your mom. Don't cry, Hoshi."

Archer looked up sharply at that, but Phlox ignored him and returned to the command chair, where the boy had started playing with the controls on the armrest.

"Don't do that," the doctor said, rocking the girl on his arm. By now, her tears had almost subsided again. "We don't want you to accidentally fire a torpedo, do we?"

"I told him before not to do this." T'Pol, now sitting in the helm's chair, gracefully crossed her legs. "He would not listen to me, though."

"You're not my mom," the boy said and began to jump up and down in the chair. "I don't have to do what you say."

Archer saw her raising an eyebrow at that and returned his attention to the scanner's display, shaking his head. All of this seemed to be some kind of absurd dream, something you knew couldn't happen but happened all the same. When the result of his scan appeared on the screen, that feeling of being in some kind of surreal dream mingled with shocked concern. If he was to believe these scans, then there wasn't a single person left aboard this ship. No one except for them and...

"Phlox, will you take a look at this."

The doctor came over and bent down over the display as well. "How interesting."

Archer wished he would stop saying that. "Indeed, doctor. Any idea who they are?"

Phlox shook his head. T'Pol turned in the helm's chair, throwing him a curious look.

"Is there something wrong, Captain Archer?"

"The scanners detected two life signs in..." Archer checked the display. "...in the messhall." He looked up at her. "Were there any others?"

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "In fact there were two others. Two boys. I sent them to investigate our surroundings."

Archer stared at her, a a feeling of dread rising in his stomach. He thought he had a pretty good idea of who those two boys were, and if T'Pol had really sent them to "investigate", then this spelled trouble.

"How...how did they look like?" Archer asked. T'Pol's eyebrow climbed even higher.

"They were approximately nine years of age, both human. One of them had blond hair, the other one was a little smaller and had dark hair. And the blond one was talking all the time," she added disapprovingly. Archer got up from his chair.

"Okay. To the messhallâ€“quick!"

T'Pol threw him a quizzical look, then got up as well and followed Phlox who was already on his way to the turbolift, holding little Hoshi in one arm and with the other hand shooing Travis towards the lift.

As the turbolift doors slid shut behind them, Archer looked up at the ceiling, uttering a silent prayer. Please, let the messhall still be the messhall when we get there.


	2. 10 Ways To Have Fun With A Reseparator

Malcolm stood on the tip of his toes, groping for the plate of pineapple cake he'd spotted on the highest shelf of the cupboard. His fingers brushed the edge of the plate, and he jumped a little, trying to grab it. The next moment the plate came down, cake and all, sliding down the front of his overall and leaving a trail of cream, crumbs and pineapple before it landed on the floor with a crash.

"Bloody hell!" Brushing off the front of his jumpsuit, Malcolm got to his knees and started scraping together the remains of the cake to put them back onto the plastic plate.

"You're not gonna eat that, are ya?"

Malcolm looked up and saw the other boy, Trip, standing in front of him, holding a plate of meatloaf in one hand and a bowl of icecream in the other.

"Of course not," Malcolm said, grabbed a napkin and wiped the last remains of cream off the floor. "But I can't just leave it like that, can I?"

"Why not?" Trip grinned. "I didn't clean up that pasta over there, either."

He set the plate and the bowl down on the table where they'd put all the other stuff they'd found in the cupboards. When Malcolm saw him place the icecream next to the pizza, he rolled his eyes.

"Man, I told youâ€“the sweets go over there," he said, getting up. Picking up the bowl, he put it down next to the collection of cakes, pies and puddings on the adjoining table. "We need a system here."

"Hey, Malcolm, look at this!"

Malcolm turned his head and saw Trip standing next to the door, looking at some kind of device in the wall. Grabbing a piece of cinnamon pie, Malcolm walked over to the door and inspected the thing in the wall as well. It was some kind of slot with a sliding door and a small panel on its right side. Regarding it thoughtfully, he took a bite of his pie.

"Whassis?" he asked around a mouthful of cinnamon. "Think I saw sump'n like it before."

"Yeah, I think I saw somethin' like that on TV," Trip said. "It's a re...a re...a reseparator or somethin'. The guy on TV, he just put a cup in it and said "coffee" andâ€“zapâ€“his cup was full of coffee."

Malcolm swallowed his mouthful of pie. "Cool," he said. "You think anyone minds if we try it out?"

Trip shrugged. "The only one who'd mind is that Miss Smart-ass who kept tellin' me to shut up, and she wonâ€™t notice."

"And what if she comes looking for us? She told us to make a...er...reconnaissance or something, and I don't think we did anything like that. She'll come looking for us for sure."

Trip grinned at him. "You're not chickenin' out, are ya?"

"Of course not," Malcolm said indignantly. "Let's go find a cup."

"There're some in that cupboard over there," Trip said. "I saw them earlier when I was lookin' for some spoons."

While Trip got some cups from a shelf beside the reseparator, Malcolm inspected the device once again and his eyes fell on the panel next to it on the wall.

"Look at these buttons," he said, glancing over at Trip. "You think they do anything?"

"I think you have to press them first before you order somethin'." Trip handed him one of the cups, putting the rest down on a table next to him. "Come on, you go first."

Malcolm gave the reseparator a doubtful look and saw that there were indeed quite a lot of buttons on that panel. In fact, he'd never seen this kind of thing before, not even on TV, and he didn't have the slightest idea which button to press to make the reseparator work. He wasn't going to tell Trip, though.

"No, you can go first," he said nonchalantly. "I'm not thirsty."

"Alright. Well, let's see..." Opening the sliding door, Trip placed a cup into the slot, then stood on his toes to press one of the buttons on the panel. He took a step backwards and cleared his throat. "Umm...a coke please. With ice."

A few moments of silence followed, then there was a shrill beeping noise. Malcolm jumped.

"What was that?" he asked. Trip shrugged.

"Wrong button, I suppose. Let's try again."

Before Malcolm had the chance to answer, Trip had pressed another button on the panel. "Coke. With ice."

There was another small beeping noise, then, to Malcolm's utter astonishment, a splashing sound followed and Trip took the cup out of the slot. It was filled with brown liquid.

"It works!" Trip said excitedly. He took a careful sip and nodded, satisfied. "Not bad." He looked down at his coke. "It didn't give me any ice, though, but that guy on TV said it wasn't fully developed yet. Maybe it can't do ice."

"Probably," Malcolm said, trying to sound as if he encountered problems with reseparators on a daily basis. Trip put another cup into the slot.

"Now you."

Briefly, Malcolm considered ordering whisky so Trip would be impressed, but at the thought of having to drink a whole cup of that awful stuff he decided against it. Standing on his toes and jumping a little, he hit the button he thought Trip had pressed earlier.

"Pineapple juice," he said. There were a few seconds of silence, then the shrill noise came again.

"It can't do pineapple," Trip said. "What kinda person would want to drink pineapple juice anyway?"

Malcolm felt his ears grow hot. "I like pineapple," he said.

"Well, but it can't do it. Try somethin' else."

"Umm..." Malcolm considered. "Okay, apple juice."

"Boooring!" Trip said while the reseparator poured the apple juice into the cup. "Apple juice's boring." He paused. "D'you think that thing can do beer?"

"Beer?!" Trying to cover up his startled reaction, Malcolm cleared his throat. "Well...I don't know. Go on, try it."

Trip looked at him for a moment, then grinned. "Okay," he said, putting another cup into the slot, and pressed the button. He took a step backwards, chuckling nervously. "Erm...beer?"

A dramatic second of silence followed, and Malcolm already found himself hoping that it hadn't worked, but thenâ€“splash!

Trip got his cup from the slot and sniffed. "It's really beer," he said in an awed tone of voice, and Malcolm took a step closer, sniffing at the light-brown liquid as well.

"Smells good," he lied, looking at Trip. "Go on, try it."

Trip gave him a doubtful look, and Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "You're not going to chicken out, are you?"

"I'm not chickenin' out!" Trip raised the cup to his lips and took a generous sip. Malcolm watched him expectantly.

"And?"

Trip lowered the cup, coughing a little. His face had turned an interesting shade of red. "Good stuff," he gagged. "You try."

"Umm..." Malcolm stared at the cup, trying to think of a way out of this. As he realized there was none, he gingerly took the cup from Trip's hand. Closing his eyes, he took a small sip and found that beer tasted even worse than he'd thought. Swallowing the foul bitter liquid, he forced a grin. "Uh...lovely."

Trip nodded and turned back to the reseparator. "Let's try somethin' else," he said. "How 'bout mixin' a cocktail?"

Malcolm stared at him, a feeling of dread rising within him at the thought of having to drink some gruesome alcoholic cocktail.

Trip continued, picking up another cup. "Let's see...what about cocoa, tomato juice and gravy?"

Immensely relieved, Malcolm felt a smile spreading on his face. "Let's put some soda pop in it, too."

"Okay." Trip put the cup into the slot, then pressed the button. "Cocoa, tomato juice, gravy and soda pop," he said. The reseparator only gave another one of its shrill noises.

"Killjoy," Trip said. Malcolm regarded the reseparator, an idea rising at the back of his mind.

"Trip," he said slowly, "what do you think would happen if you take the cup out of the slot before the thing is finished?"

"Good idea!" Trip said approvingly. "Let's try it." Turning to the reseparator, he grabbed the handle of the cup. "Water," he said. When the reseparator started pouring colorless liquid into the cup, Trip quickly took it out of the slot. The water kept coming out of the server, splashing into the slot and spilling over onto the floor.

"Woohoo!" Trip cried and Malcolm grinned.

"I knew it would work!" he said, but Trip wasn't listening to him anymore.

"Oh, that's fun! Let's try something real sticky!"

Malcolm quickly shook his head. "No, we're only going to get in trouble."

"How?" Trip said. "There's no grown-ups around."

Malcolm hesitated, but then dismissed his doubtful thoughts. Trip was right, there were no grown-ups around. "All right," he said. "What do you think would happen if we don't put any cup in it?"

Trip grinned. "Let's try."

###

Archer was heading down the corridor towards the messhall, Phlox and the three children in tow. As they came closer to the door, he suddenly heard a loud crash, followed by an excited outcry.

"Yay! Look at this!" a child's voice cried, and Archer quickened his pace.

"Let's do carrot juice again!" a second voice cried. Archer hit the panel beside the door, and it slid open, revealing a scene of devastation. The messhall was in a state of chaos. The cupboards' doors were standing open, and the tables were covered with plates, bowls and cups, some of them turned upside down, their contents spilled and scattered all over the tables and the floor. Archer took no real notice of that, though. His attention was totally focused on the two little boys who were jumping up and down in front of the resequencer, shouting like mad, making one hell of a noise.

"Carrot juice!"

"Coffee!"

"Black tea with milk!"

A stream of orange-brown liquid came spilling from the resequencer, spattering all over the boys and splashing down onto the floor, mixing with the large puddle of unidentifiable goo that was spreading there with an alarming speed. The boys didn't seem to have noticed the door opening; they screamed with delight as the carrot juice came spilling all over their Starfleet jumpsuits and hopped up and down, trying to get each other as wet as possible. Archer took a deep breath.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

At the sound of his voice, the boys whirled around and froze, their eyes wide with shock. Archer had to take only one look at them to know that these two were indeed his Chief Engineer and Tactical Officerâ€“that they had been his Chief Engineer and Tactical Officer, anyway, now transformed into nine-year-old children. For a few seconds they just stared at each other, unable to speak. Then Archer heard Phlox' voice beside his ear.

"How interesting."

"Doc. Would you please stop saying this?" Archer said through gritted teeth. Before Phlox had the chance to answer, though, the blond boyâ€“Tripâ€“spoke up.

"Who...who're you?" he asked timidly. Archer opened his mouth to say something, but then T'Pol stepped forward.

"This is Captain Archer," she said sternly. "I believe I told you to make a reconnaissance, not to cause mayhem in the ship's messhall. Captain Archerâ€“"

Archer held up a hand. "Wait a minute," he said. "Let me talk to them."

"You're a Captain?" Trip looked at him with an awed expression on his face. "That's cool."

Sighing, Archer sat down on the edge of a table. "Let me guess," he said. "You're Trip Tucker and Malcolm Reed, and you have no idea how you came to be on this ship."

Trip nodded, frowning, and Malcolm shifted his feet. "Yes sir," he mumbled, speaking up for the first time since Archer had entered the messhall.

"How come you know our names?" Trip asked. Archer looked at him for a moment, not really knowing what to say, when he felt Phlox' hand on his arm.

"Captain, I suggest we take the children to sickbay for some DNA scans. I'm pretty sure that they really are what they seem to be, but we can't know for certain."

Archer nodded and got up. Phlox turned to the two boys who were still standing in the middle of puddle, listening to their conversation.

"Well then, you two, let's go," he said. Trip set off for the door immediately, each of his steps accompanied by a squelching sound as he walked through the puddle. Malcolm, on the other hand, hesitated.

"Don't you...don't you want us to clean this up?" he asked nervously, motioning both at the mess on the floor and the room in general. Phlox raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, young man, I want you to clean it up, but not right now. First we have some business to do in sickbay."

Casting a last guilty glance at the resequencer, Malcolm followed Trip. Archer, who'd been watching the interaction between Phlox and the...children...with a growing feeling of surreality, briefly shook his head to clear his thoughts, trying to concentrate on the matters at hand. He looked around.

"Where's Travis?" he asked. Phlox turned around.

"TRAVIS!" he called. A moment later Travis appeared from behind a table, holding a bowl and a spoon in his hands. His face and hands were smeared with white sticky stuff.

"Look, I found some ice cream!" he said proudly. Phlox smiled.

"Yes, that's nice, Travis, but we don't have the time to eat ice cream now. We need to go to sickbay. We can come back later, hm?"

Travis looked slightly disappointed, but put the bowl back onto the table all the same and came over, taking Phlox by the hand. Archer looked down at the small boy, then at the Denobulan doctor who was still carrying Hoshi.

"Have you always been that good with children, doc?" he asked. Phlox raised his eyebrows.

"Well, it kind of comes with the job, doesn't it?"

Archer frowned. "Of being a doctor?"

Phlox turned around, touching the panel beside the door. "No, of being a father. Well, let's go, hm?"

Archer watched him for a moment, then decided not to ask further. As they stepped out into the corridor, Hoshi suddenly spoke up again, looking up at Phlox.

"I want some ice cream, too."

Archer sighed.


	3. Q Almighty

Archer regarded the untidy stack of shirts and sweaters in Trip's wardrobe and sighed. He'd never really understood his friend's odd habit of buying every ugly, garish shirt he came across. And, even worse, buying only ugly, garish shirts.

After a moment's consideration Archer picked one of the a little less colorful onesâ€“it was a blue and green tie-dye t-shirtâ€“and opened a drawer to look for some shorts.

Since both Malcolm and Trip had soaked their miniature Starfleet overalls when they'd flooded the messhall, Phlox had sent him to get some clean clothes while he ran the DNA scans, saying it would take some time until the analysis was completed. At first, Archer hadn't really known where he was supposed to get kids' clothes fromâ€“after all, under normal circumstances, there weren't any kids on Enterpriseâ€“but then he'd decided to get them some of their own clothes. They would just have to make them fit.

Pulling out the only pair of black shorts he could find, Archer closed the drawer again and headed towards the door.

On his way to sickbay, Archer tried to get his confused thoughts into order again, thinking up a mental check-list of the steps he was going to take now. First, they had to finish the DNA scans and then he would think of a way to find out what the hell had happened to his crew. And he needed to contact Command. As soon as possible.

How the hell am I gonna explain this one to Forest? he thought, and if he hadn't been on the verge of panicking, Archer might as well have laughed at the thought.

"Well, Admiral," Jon muttered, "something funny happened to me on the way to these unknown galaxies. Or, to be more specific, something funny happened to my crew. Actually, most of them have just disappeared, and the rest...well, they're not what they used to be."

He shook his head at his own foolishness. The fact that he was talking to himself now was just another indication of how absurd this situation was. Usually, he at least pretended to be talking to Porthos, but at the moment Archer couldn't bring himself to care if anyone questioned him being in his right state of mind. There was no one around anyway except for a Denobulan doctor who had no business accusing anyone of being weird and a bunch of...children who had formerly been his senior officers. It was one of the few times of his entire career that Captain Jonathan Archer couldn't come up with any explanation whatsoever for what was going on around him. It was fairly improbable that this had something to do with a temporal anomaly. If that were the case then the rest of the crew wouldn't simply have disappeared just like that.

But if it hadn't been an anomaly, then what on Earth had happened? Thousands of explanations popped up in his mind, one less likely than the other, and Archer shook his head once more, dismissing the thoughts. It was no use; right now he had to tend to the matters at hand: get to sickbay, see if the DNA scans had revealed anything, talk to the kids and try to find out more about what had happened, and then...well, he'd see to that later.

By now, Archer had reached the corridor leading to sickbay, and taking a deep breath he pressed the panel beside the door.

Okay, he thought, one step at a time. Let's see about the DNA scans first.

As he entered sickbay, his eyes fell on Phlox standing next to a biobed, running his scanner over Travis who was watching his every move with an interested expression on his face. On the adjoining bed sat T'Pol with Hoshi on her lap, nodding gravely as she saw him.

"Captain Archer," she said, and Phlox turned around.

"Ah, Captain! I assume you found them something to wear?"

Archer nodded, stepped up next to Phlox and glanced at the scanner.

"Did you find out anything?"

Obviously finished, Phlox put the scanner aside and turned to face Archer.

"Indeed Captain. It seems that these children are in fact T'Pol, Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed and Ensigns Sato and Mayweather. There is no doubt about that, the DNA patterns are a perfect match."

Archer sat down on the biobed next to Travis, letting out a deep breath. He wasn't really surprised, but all the same, hearing the absurd story being medically confirmed made it even worse somehow. Raising his head, he took a weary look around.

"Where are ...er...Trip and Malcolm?" he asked. It felt strange, referring to the two boys in that way. Phlox waved a casual hand at the back of the room.

"Still in the shower. I put their uniforms to the laundry, they were quite a lost cause. Just give me these clothes, hm, then I'll get them dressed."

"Sure, doc," Archer said, handing him the bundle of clothes, and watched as the doctor disappeared through the door into the adjoining bathroom.

"I like your ship," he heard a voice next to him and looked at Travis, who was grinning up at him. "How big is it?"

Archer smiled. "Pretty big," he said. Travis nodded thoughtfully.

"I bet my dad's ship is bigger, though. It's the biggest ship in the whole world."

"I'm sure it is," Archer said. T'Pol spoke up.

"I was wondering, Captain Archer. Is there no crew on this ship?"

Archer turned to look at her. "Well, usually there is but...they seem to have disappeared. We don't really know what happened. You know..." He hesitated. "It looks like you were transformed. You used to be my science officer."

She raised an eyebrow. "I do not understand, Captain Archer."

Archer sighed. "Seems like we got something in common."

That moment the bathroom door opened again, and Archer heard Phlox' voice.

"I don't know why you got the boring shirt, but as we don't have anything else for you to wear right now, you'll just have to be content with that one. Maybe we can find you a less boring shirt later on."

Phlox emerged, followed by Malcolm and Trip, who both looked quite funny in their way-too-big shirts and shorts. While Trip was grinning happily, inspecting his blue and green appearance in the mirror, Malcolm had a sulking frown on his face.

"I still don't see why I had to take the grey one," he said, throwing Trip a jealous glance. "It's not fair."

Archer grinned. "There're more where that one came from. I'll get you another one later."

Malcolm looked up at him, then took another unhappy glance at his boring grey shirt.

"Okayâ€“thank you, sir," he added as a second thought. Archer nodded, getting up.

"Well, kids," he said, "why don't you just sit down for a moment. I need to talk to you."

"About the reseparator?" Trip asked warily. Archer frowned.

"Reseparator?"

"That thing back in the cafeteria. You know, where we...that thing that can make all them drinks."

Archer had a hard time biting back a grin. "Oh, you mean the resequencer. Yes, we're gonna have a talk about that too, but not right now."

Trip grinned, obviously relieved, and he and Malcolm climbed onto the biobed next to T'Pol, settling down and looking at Archer expectantly. Archer crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Alright," he said, "I bet you're wondering why you're here. Well... Dr. Phlox and I don't really know either, and so, since we all want to know what's going on here, we have to try and find out."

They all stared at him, and Archer cleared his throat. "See..." he continued a little uncomfortably, "on this ship, there used to be quite a lot of grown-ups...my crew. Actually, you were part of that crew."

None of them said a word, staring at him with wide eyes. Archer looked at Phlox for help, and the doctor raised his eyebrows.

"I think you should skip that part, Captain," he said. "I doubt they'd understand it."

T'Pol's eyebrows shot up. "I do understand, Dr. Phlox," she said a little indignantly. "You are implying that we were transformed into children."

"Right," Archer said, sitting down on the edge of the biobed again. "Anyway, I need to know what you remember before you came here."

Another moment of silence followed, then T'Pol spoke up again.

"As I said before, I was busy with my mathematical studies. I was sitting in my room at my computer terminal when I suddenly found myself here on this ship. It was a most interesting experience."

"I bet it was." Archer looked at Trip. "What about you?"

Trip shrugged. "Well, I was outside, helpin' my dad repair the carâ€“you know, the axle was broken, 'cause my dad wrecked it when he ran the car into the ditch. My mom says he just can't handle that new car, but I think-"

Archer held up a hand. "Okay, okay. So the last thing you remember is being at home with your parents?"

"No, I was outside with my dad," Trip said in a patient tone of voice. "Mom wasn't home, she was-"

"Thanks, I got it," Archer said. "You were home with your dad, repairing the car, and then you were here."

"Right." Trip nodded, and Archer turned to Malcolm. "And you?"

Malcolm considered. "I was at school," he said then. "Playing football."

"You were playing soccer?" Archer asked kindly, mostly to put the boy at ease. Malcolm shrugged glumly, obviously not recognizing the word.

â€œI suppose so.â€

"We play soccer in gym class too," Trip said, dangling his legs. "Itâ€™s fun."

Archer saw Malcolm looking at Trip in disbelief and hid a smile.

"Okay, so you were repairing the car, you were playing soccer, and you?" He looked at Travis who gave him a bright smile.

"I once played soccer, too, with my brother. In one of the cargo bays."

Archer blinked. "Yes", he said, "but that's not what I wanted to know. I wanted to know what you remember before you came to be on this ship."

Travis looked around. "I really like this ship. It's really nice, but my dad's ship is better."

"Yes," Archer said a little impatiently, "but-"

"Captain," Phlox said quietly, "it is quite obvious that whatever transformed him left Travis with the memories he had as a four-year-old child. I don't think he understands your question, and I doubt that Hoshi does, either."

When she heard her name, Hoshi looked up. "Where is my mom?" she asked.

Archer swallowed, but then Phlox intervened, smiling at the little girl who was still sitting on T'Pol's lap.

"You know what, you can come with me and help me feed my pets," he said. "I got lots of pets here in my sickbay. Do you want to come?"

Hoshi nodded eagerly, sliding off T'Pol's lap and taking Phlox by the hand.

"Excuse me, sir..."

Archer turned and saw Malcolm looking at him with a slightly confused expression on his face.

"I'm not quite sure I understand...what exactly did you mean when you said we were transformed?" He frowned. "I can't remember being any different before."

Archer sighed. "You know, before this happened, you were...adults. You were my officers aboard this ship."

"I was an officer?" Trip's eyes widened. "Cool! What did I do?"

Archer looked at him for a moment, not quite able to believe he was having this conversation. "You were Chief Engineer," he said then.

Trip stared at him for a moment. "Chief Engineer," he repeated then, obviously savouring the sound of it.

"And what did I do?" Malcolm asked curiously.

"You were the Armory Officer," Archer said and Malcolm's face lit up.

"I was the Armory Officer? Did I have guns or cannons or something?"

Archer bit back a grin. "Yes you did. Quite a lot of them, actually."

"And the rest of the crew?" Trip asked. "They're gone?"

"Yes." Archer's smile faded. "They've disappeared."

Trip shook his head. "But that's magic! How-"

"You're right, Charlie my boy. It is magic."

Archer spun around. There was a man leaning against the sickbay doors, wearing a blue Starfleet overall with captain's insignia. Except for his remarkably arrogant grin there was nothing unusual about him.

"Who are you?" Archer asked. The man's grin widened.

"I'm the magician."

He sauntered over to one of the biobeds and sat down, resting one of his feet on the edge of the bed.

"Close your mouth, Jonny," he said. "That look doesn't suit you."

Archer took a deep breath. "What are you doing on my ship?"

The man ignored him, looking around in sickbay with the nostalgic air of someone visiting the hometown of his childhood.

"I always liked you guys," he said. "You don't have that party pooper attitude. Jean-Luc and Kathy are nice and all, but they can be real killjoys, you know."

"Who are you?" Archer repeated with growing confusion, taking a step towards the intruder. The man looked back at him, tilting his head to one side.

"I am Q."

"Q?" Archer repeated. "Is that a name?"

"Yes and no," the man said. "But you can call me Q."

"Q is a funny name," Trip chirped up.

Q glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Trip is a funny name, too."

"Leave him alone," Archer said, his irritation increasing with every second. "What's that supposed to mean, you are Q? You're not human, are you?"

"I'm much much more than that, my dear Jonny," Q said. "I'm what you would call omnipotent. Almighty. I'm just Q."

"Almighty?" Archer frowned. He definitely did not like this guy. "What are you doing aboard my ship?"

Q grinned. "Just having fun."

Archer stared at him, realization dawning at the back of his mind. "Are you responsible for any of this?" he asked slowly, taking another step towards the man. Q gave him a quizzical look.

"Let's say I caused it. The responsible ones are you, actually. Don't forget that."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Archer noticed that he'd raised his voice, but at the moment he didn't really care. "Where is the rest of my crew? What did you do to them?"

"They are fine," Q answered, ignoring Archer's anger. "But I'm worried about you, Jonny. You don't seem to be getting the message of this."

Archer stared at him, at a loss for words, when he suddenly heard Phlox' voice.

"Who is that, Captain?"

Archer turned and saw Phlox standing there, still holding Hoshi by the hand.

"Ah, Dr. Phlox!" Q exclaimed, getting up from the biobed. "I've been looking forward to meeting you in person."

Phlox raised his eyebrows. "I'm afraid I don't know you."

"Of course, I haven't introduced myself yet. How inconsiderate of me! I am Q," the man said with a flourish and a bow. Phlox eyebrows climbed even higher.

"How interesting," he said. "What species are you?"

"Well, I am Q."

T'Pol spoke up. "You said so four times already," she said reproachfully. "And to my knowledge, "Q" is not a known species."

"Ah, but there you are mistaken, my dear," Q said. "You should talk to Jean-Luc one of these days. He could tell you some interesting stories."

"Excuse me if I'm interrupting," Archer said acidly, "but I don't have the time for your games. If you're really responsible for this, then you'd better let my crew go and change my senior crew back to normal, or -"

"Or what?" Q interrupted. "Are you going to lock me up in the brig? Shoot me? You're so cute when you're angry."

By now, Archer was shaking with fury. "You come here, say you're "Q", claim you're almighty and tell me that you've abducted my crew just to "have some fun"! Do you think I believe one word of what you are saying?"

"Now, now, Jonny, watch your blood pressure." Q grinned and turned to Phlox. "You know, I just don't understand it. Here I am, looking all honest and trustworthy in that wonderful Starfleet uniform of yours, and this man just doesn't believe me when I'm telling him that I'm almighty. It's a shame."

Phlox tilted his head to one side. "Well, you'll have to admit that it is quite the implausible assertion."

Q nodded somberly. "You may have a point there, doctor. Well, it's no picnic, being almighty."

"What do you want?" Archer fought to keep his voice calm. "What's this all about?"

"You're not the brightest candle on the birthday cake, are you, Jonny?" Q gave him a reproachful look. "Didn't you listen? It's about me being almighty."

Archer took a deep breath, but before he could say anything, T'Pol piped up again.

"I do not believe that you are almighty," she announced. "It would be illogical for an almighty being to engage in this kind of conversation."

Q's face lit up. "Do you want me to prove that I'm almighty? Really almighty? As almighty as one can get?"

"You really enjoy saying that, don't you?" Phlox asked. "Interesting."

Archer briefly closed his eyes. "Yes," he said. "We want you to prove it. Bring back the crew."

"Ah, I won't fall for that one, Jonny," Q said. "It has all been tried before. You should know you can't trick me. After all, I'm almighty."

"What's almighty?" Travis asked. Q smiled at him.

"Being almighty means you can do whatever you want, my dear boy," he said. "It's quite a lot of fun, I can tell you."

"So you really can do whatever you want?" Trip asked in an awed tone of voice. Q nodded smugly.

"Everything I want."

"So can you...can you magic all of us to the Mount Everest?"

"NO!!" Archer yelled, but it was too late. Q snapped his fingers; a second later sickbay disappeared and they found themselves standing knee-deep in snow on the edge of a very steep precipice. The air was foggy, and Archer had to squint his eyes shut against the icy wind. Q was standing a few feet away, wearing a pink wool hat on his head and a smug smile on his face.

"Q!!" Archer shouted. "Take us backâ€“NOW!"

"Say the magic word," Q sang, crossing his arms in front of his chest. By now, Travis and Hoshi had begun to cry, and T'Pol was shivering violently. Trip looked around with an amazed expression on his face. "Wow!"

Phlox picked up the crying Hoshi, brushing the snow off her clothes, and gave Archer an imploring look.

"Captain," he said, and Archer turned back to Q, trying to keep his voice level as he spoke again.

"Take us back, Q. Please."

Q shook his head, grinning. "That's the wrong one, Jonny. As Dr. Phlox pointed out before, there's one thing I really like to hear. Say it, Jonny. What am I?"

Archer closed his eyes. "You're almighty," he said through gritted teeth, and a second later they were back in sickbay. Q patted him on the back.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, Jonny, was it?"

Archer whirled around. "You- who do you think you ARE?! You could've killed all of us! Now bring back my crew, and then get the hell off my ship, you arrogant bastard! And if you don't-"

"Then what?" Q asked pleasantly. "You keep forgetting that I'm almighty."

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE ALMIGHTY OR IF YOUR NAME'S Q OR CUCUMBER OR WHATEVER!! JUST BRING BACK MY CREW!!"

Q took on an air of mock indignation. "Now, Jonny, I really don't like that cucumber pun! No jokes with names, that's what I say. And if that's the way you treat your guests here, then I think I'll just make it like a tree and leave."

He snapped his fingers, and a moment later there was only thin air left where Q had been standing only seconds before. A moment of silence followed.

"Where did the man go?" Travis asked, looking up at Phlox. The doctor didn't answer, however, meeting Archer's eyes with an unusually serious expression on his face.

"Captain," he said, "I think we have a problem."

Archer stared at him, realizing only now what he had just done. If he'd really offended that unpredictable being so that he'd never come back, they indeed had one hell of a problem on their hands. Archer shook his head.

"He can't do that," he said, "he just can't. I'm sure there're laws or rules he has to obey. He has to come back."

Phlox raised an eyebrow. "And what if not? What are you planning to do with them?" He gestured at the children. Archer swallowed. He knew he couldn't let that happen.

"Q!" he called. "Q! Come back! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you!" He paused, but nothing happened.

"Come on!" Archer called, feeling despair rise within him. "Please, Q! Come back! I'm really sorry!" An idea came to his mind, and he considered, then shrugged. It couldn't hurt to try.

"Q! COME BACK! YOU'RE ALMIGHTY!"

"Very nice, Jonny," said Q, who was suddenly standing next to him again. "It took a while, but I think you're getting the hang of it. It sounds wonderful, doesn't it? Almighty." Q smacked his lips in delight. "Aaalmightyyy. Aaaaalmiiiiightyyyyy."

"Aaaaalmiiightyyyy," Trip repeated. "Yeah, I think I'm almighty, too."

"Oh, it takes a lot of practice, being aaalmiiightyyyy," Q said, and Phlox regarded him thoughtfully.

"I think you've developed quite the neurosis there, haven't you," he said, and Q nodded, obviously flattered.

Archer closed his eyes. Okay, he thought, deep breathing, Jon. Deep breathing. You can handle this.

"Listen, Q," he said, opening his eyes again. "How about if we just sit down and talk this through like...sane people?"

"Sane. Saaaiinn. What a nice word. But not as good as aaaalmiiiightyyyy!"

Archer took a deep breath. "Q-" he began, and Q held his hands up in defeat.

"Okayokay, if you're going to be a party pooper like Jean-Luc and Kathy, then so be it." He took a seat on one of the biobeds and folded his hands. "What do you want to talk about?"

Archer paused. "Well," he said. "Alright. I think I mentioned before that I really would like to have my crew back. And soon. So do you think there is the slightest chance that you're going to do anything about this?"

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Jonny," Q said. "I liked you better when you were screaming. Your face turned that funny shade of red."

Phlox cleared his throat. "This lack of concentration is alarming, don't you think," he said. "Have you ever thought about consulting a psychologist about it?"

Q smiled at him. "I like you," he said. "I really like you. You understand me. You know, sometimes it's so hard, being almighty. Aaaalm-"

"We're not talking about you being almighty right now," Archer interrupted. "We're talking about my crew. So are you going to bring them back?"

Q sighed. "Oh well, if it's that important to you..." He raised his hand and Archer held his breath.

Do it, he thought, just do it. Snap these stupid fingers of yours.

Q, however, stopped in his tracks. He lowered his hand again, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"No," he said, "no, I don't think so. You know, Jonny, I really didn't like that cucumber joke of yours. I don't think I'm going to let you off the hook that easily."

Archer felt close to tears. "What do you want? Do you want me to say sorry? I am. I am terribly, terribly sorry I called you a cucumber. Now would you please -"

"No," Q said, turning his head away. "No I won't. That was really mean of you and I'm quite offended. Besides, I promised Jean-Luc I'd give him a break, so I need something to occupy myself with in the meantime."

"You need something to occupy yourself," Archer repeated, and Q nodded sadly.

"Yes, you know, it's an awful lonely life, being aaal-"

"Okay," Archer said quickly, "okay. So you need something to occupy yourself. I suppose there's something you...you want us to do?"

Q regarded him for a moment. "You know, actually I hadn't thought of that yet, but...that's a good idea!" He jumped up, spreading his arms in a dramatic gesture. "A mission!" he cried. "A quest! Yes, that's a wonderful idea!"

Archer stared at him, not for the first time today feeling as if he'd fallen through the rabbit hole.

"Wait, Q. If you hadn't even thought of that before, why don't you just forget what I said and bring back my crew-"

"No, no, Jonny. That was a wonderful idea of yours, and I've already thought of a mission you're really going to like."

"Have you?" Archer asked weakly. "And what would that be?"

"All right." Q paused dramatically. "To save your fellow officers and your crew, you have to find the Lake of Learning and drink the Water of Wisdom."

Archer stared at him. "The Lake of Learning? Is that an expression?"

"No," Q said, "it's a lake. Big hole with water in it, you know."

"Okay. Go to the Lake of Learning and drink the Water of Wisdom. Where's that Lake of Learning?"

Q smiled nastily. "Yes, well, the Lake of Learning is hard to find. But a man with a pure heart and a noble soul-"

"Q!"

Q rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. The coordinates are in your navigation computer."

Archer nodded, then gave Q another resigned look. "And you're serious about this?"

"Of course, I'm always Sirius. And sometimes I'm Harry Potter."

Archer blinked, but then wisely decided not to ask. Q smiled at the children and patted Phlox on the shoulder.

"Well, my dears, it has been a pleasure meeting you. But now I have to go and leave you to your quest. And if you ever run into any real trouble, don't forget: I'm almighty! Aaaalmiiightyyy!"

He snapped his fingers and disappeared. Archer sat down heavily on the edge of a biobed, meeting Phlox' eyes in resignation.

"He's mental, don't you think?"

Phlox raised his eyebrows. "It appears so," he said. "What are you going to do now, Captain?"

Archer sighed. "Well," he said, "We've got the coordinates, we've got a mission...looks like we don't have much of a choice."

For a moment no one said a word. Then Hoshi's voice broke the silence.

"I want my mom."

Archer turned his head to look at her and took another deep breath. Me too, he thought. Me too.


	4. Babysitter BluesâIt's Not That I Don't Like Kids...

Archer was sitting on his bed, staring down at the novel he was trying to read. Having read the same sentence at least five times now, he still didn't know what it was saying. Sighing, Archer resigned to the fact that he just wasn't able to concentrate at the moment and put the padd aside. Out of habit, he turned around and reached for his water ball, thinking he might do a little target practice on the wall of his quarters, but the shelf next to his bed was empty. Archer frowned, then remembered that he'd given the ball to Trip when he and Malcolm had come to his quarters to ask if they could take Porthos for a walk. Neither the ball nor Porthos had returned yet, and Archer was beginning to feel just a little lonesome in here.

Still, it was a relief, having a few hours to himself for a change. They'd been on their way for three days now, en route to the coordinates Q had given them, and if Archer was being honest with himself then he had to admit that the last three days had been some of the more challenging ones in his career as a Starfleet captain. Babysitting a bunch of kids was a much more straining job that he'd ever imagined it could be. On the evening of the first day, Archer had all but collapsed on his bed, falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

After setting a course to the coordinates they'd found in the navigation computer, Archer and Phlox had found themselves facing the problem of what to do with the kids, who were with the exception of T'Pol certainly not old enough to be left alone for a longer period of time. Finally they'd decided on putting them all up in sickbay instead of sending them to their own quarters, again with the exception of T'Pol, who'd been very emphatic on the point that she was not going to share quarters with a bunch of human children.

Since they couldn't very well let the kids sleep on the high, narrow biobeds, Phlox had cleared out one of his storage rooms and put a few mattresses in there, creating something that reminded Archer strongly of the Boy Scout camping outings of his childhood. The kids, of course, had been enthusiastic at the prospect of sleeping packed like sardines in a small, crammed room, and even though Archer hadn't been too happy with that solution he hadn't voiced his doubts, leaving it to Phlox to get the children settled. The next morning when Phlox had told him that except for some pillow fights and a few tears on Hoshi's part the night had been uneventful, Archer had been quite relieved.

All in all, the kids seemed to be coping quite well with the situationâ€“sometimes Archer had the impression that they were doing better than he himself was. During the days, they were mostly with Phlox, who seemed to have a never-ending patience when it came to breaking up fights, cleaning up behind Trip and Malcolm and explaining to Hoshi over and over again why she couldn't have her mom. He also proved to be quite resourceful in finding new things to do for the kids who at times were all but bouncing off the walls with pent-up energy, especially the boys. Travis was the worst by far, seemingly unable to sit still for more than one minute, but as long as he got the opportunity to vent some of his energy by running and jumping around in the gym for at least two hours a day, he was fairly easy to get along with. He never seemed to feel homesick, either, unlike Hoshi who was very unhappy at times, having trouble falling asleep at night and crying a lot in general. She seemed to have chosen T'Pol as her substitute mom, following the older girl wherever she went. T'Pol didn't seem to mind, and when she wasn't having one of her moods she took the part of the substitute parent quite willingly, sometimes even taking the little girl with her when she was "doing her studies". T'Pol spent most of her days holed up in her quarters at the computer terminal, and ever since Archer had given her access to the main data base, he doubted she even took a break to sleep.

Malcolm and Trip, on the other hand, had the uncanny talent of driving even the most patient of babysitters up the wall. Over the last three days they'd managed to break two of Phlox' med scanners, had flooded the bathroom at least three times, had wrecked one of the cupboards in the messhall and had accidentally let Phlox' bat out of her cage while playing 'explorers' in sickbay. When they weren't busy creating some kind of mess or other, they were sure to be found either in the messhall or in sickbay, engaged in a heated discussion or sometimes even a fist fight about matters Archer wasn't sure even they themselves fully understood.

Yesterday, when Phlox had almost lost his patience with them after they'd knocked over a cupboard playing rugby in sickbay, Archer had decided the doctor could use a break and had taken the two boys with him for a tour of the ship. They hadn't gotten very far, though. One of their first stops had been the armory, and when Malcolm had seen the vast supply of guns and torpedoes stored there, he'd refused to leave before he hadn't thoroughly examined every single type of weapon Enterprise's armory had to offer. That way they'd passed several hours, and when Malcolm had finally announced that he was done, both boys had been beat and had actually agreed to take a short nap.

Unfortunately, there was only one armory aboard Enterprise, and today had been business as usual, the kids driving him and Phlox crazy...well, him at least. When Trip and Malcolm had started fighting for the third time in fifteen minutes, Archer had decided he just needed a few hours of peace and quiet and had taken refuge in his quarters.

By now, however, he felt guilt begin to nag at the back of his mind. Ever since that whole transformation business had happened, Phlox had taken over most of the babysitter job, and even though he wasn't complaining, Archer felt bad about the way he left it all to the doctor. It was quite a straining job, after all.

Coming to a decision, he got up. Maybe Phlox could use some help, and besides, Archer was beginning to feel hungry. With a last regretting glance at the padd, Archer stretched and headed for the door.

As he entered the messhall, he saw Phlox sitting at a table, the kids all gathered around him, making one hell of a noise as usual.

"I want hamburgers! With fries and ketchup! And a coke!"

"I want icecream! Chocolate icecream!"

"Can we make fried potatoes? With ketchup!"

"I suggest we prepare some plomeek soup. It is nutritious as well as-"

"No, I want hamburgers! With fries!"

"What's going on here?" Archer asked, sitting down on the edge of the table. Phlox looked up at him, smiling happily.

"We're discussing what we're going to have for supper," he said, raising his voice to be heard over the racket the children were making. "Our supply of prepared dishes is running low, so it seems like we're going to have to cook for ourselves from now on. Any suggestions, Captain?"

"Please, can we make fried potatoes?" Malcolm piped up again, but his suggestion was drowned out by the noise Travis was making.

"I want icecream! I want icecream! I want icecream!"

"You can't cook icecream, Travis," Phlox said pleasantly, but Travis didn't pay him the slightest attention, beginning to hop up and down.

"I want icecream! I want icecream!"

Archer caught him around the waist and picked him up. "Okay," he said. "Quiet now. We can have icecream for dessert. Any other suggestions?"

"Hamburgers!" Trip cried, and T'Pol raised a disapproving eyebrow.

"There is no need to shout," she said, shifting Hoshi on her arm. "I think plomeek soup would be the logical choice, since -"

"I don't like soup!" Trip said complainingly. "Please, can we make hamburgers?"

"Well," Archer said, feeling a headache starting, "I don't think I know how to cook plomeek soup. So...what about spaghetti?"

"I don't like spaghetti!" Trip crossed his arms. "I want hamburgers."

"I think spaghetti is a good idea," Phlox said heartily. "Maybe we can make hamburgers tomorrow, hm?"

Trip considered for a moment. "Okay," he said then. "But I want ketchup with my spaghetti!"

Archer nodded. "You can have ketchup with your spaghetti." He looked at Phlox. "By the way, doc, have you ever learned to cook?"

Phlox raised his eyebrows at him. "Not human food, but it can't be too hard, can it?"

Archer sighed. "Well, I think I'll manage spaghetti," he said. "Let's go."

###

"My mom says I can't have spaghetti when we're eatin' out," Trip said while slurping up the pasta strings that were dangling from his mouth. "She says it's too embarrassing."

Surveying the table and the kids that were by now generously covered in spaghetti sauce and ketchup, Archer sighed.

"I can see her point," he said, thinking that maybe spaghetti hadn't been such a good idea after all. From the corner of his eye he saw Travis reaching for the ketchup bottle again and hastily snatched it out of his reach.

"You've had enough ketchup," he said, feeling faintly sick as he looked at Travis' plate, which contained a few mashed up spaghetti and what looked like half a liter of ketchup. Travis pouted.

"But I want more ketchup!"

Archer shook his head. "You've had enough."

Ignoring Travis' glare, Archer turned to Phlox who was consuming spaghetti at an amazing speed, apparently unaffected by the mess the kids were making.

"Do all kids eat like that?" Archer asked, and Phlox looked up, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh yes," he said. "Mine did, at least. I think that's something all species have in common, with the possible exception of the Vulcans."

"Really." Archer sighed again, secretly wishing he could follow T'Pol's example and just take his plate to eat in his quarters, but he couldn't very well leave the whole cleaning up job to Phlox.

Why is it that everything kids get their hands on turns into a complete mess? he thought, grabbing a napkin and wiping off his grimy, sticky fingers. Why can't they eat like normal people?

Malcolm gave a small burp. "I feel kind of sick," he said, pushing away his plate. "I don't think I can finish that."

"I told you not to drink so much of that soda." Phlox took Malcolm's plate and transferred its contents onto his own. "You're not very hungry today, are you, Captain?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at Archer's almost untouched spaghetti. Archer looked at Hoshi who was staring blankly into space, absentmindedly picking her nose.

"No, not really."

Phlox stuffed the last of his spaghetti into his mouth and looked around. "Well, looks like everyone's finished, hm?"

"I feel really sick," said Malcolm, who was rather pale in the face. "I think I'm going to-"

Phlox jumped up. "To the bathroom! Quick!"

Shooing Malcolm towards the door, Phlox hurriedly left the messhall. Trip looked after them with an interested expression on his face.

"You think he's gonna puke?"

Archer turned around and saw that Hoshi had fallen asleep, her head resting on the table next to her plate. He sighed again. It was going to be a long trip.

###

A few hours later, Archer was sitting on a biobed in sickbay, watching the kids play. They seemed to be quite tired, and even Trip and Malcolm hadn't been fighting for over half an hour now, sitting on the sickbay floor and playing Monopoly as peacefully as you please. Travis was sitting nearby, building a city with the small Monopoly houses he'd emptied onto the floor. He was looking quite sleepy. Porthos was here as well, curled up underneath one of the biobeds with Hoshi sitting next to him. She looked like she would be nodding off any minute now, sucking her thumb, leaning against Porthos who didn't mind at all being used as a cushion.

Seeing how tired the kids seemed to be, Archer came to a decision. If they were that sleepy, maybe putting them to bed wouldn't be too much trouble tonight. And Phlox really deserved a break. Sliding off the biobed, Archer walked over to the counter where Phlox was busy feeding maggots to his bat. The doctor dropped another green wriggling worm into the cage, then closed the lid and looked up at Archer.

"She is still recovering from her little adventure yesterday." Phlox popped one of the maggots into his mouth and chewed on it, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Being out of her cage always leaves her a little cranky, but I'm sure she'll be alright."

"That's good to hear." Archer cleared his throat. "Doctor, what do you think of taking an evening off? You've been having the kids for three nights now, and I'm sure you could use a break."

Phlox raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure you'll be able to handle them?"

At the doctor's sceptical tone of voice, Archer felt a little less confident about his offer, but all the same he nodded, dismissing his doubts.

"Yes, I think so," he said. "They seem to be quite tired, so there shouldn't be too much trouble."

Tilting his head to one side, Phlox looked at him for a moment. "Very well, Captain." He gathered up the maggot container and put it away on a shelf, then grabbed a few padds from the counter. "I'll use the time to catch up on some of my reading. And you're really sure about this?"

Archer, who felt just the tiniest bit offended at Phlox' lack of confidence in his babysitting abilities, shrugged dismissively. "Yes, why not?"

"Well, alright, Captain." Phlox gave him one of his broad smiles. "Good luck, then. I'll be off, but feel free to call me if there is any trouble."

"Thanks, doc," Archer said, making up his mind that he wouldn't call Phlox under any circumstances whatsoever. "Good night."

After the sickbay doors had slid shut behind Phlox, Archer sat back down on the edge of the biobed, letting his eyes wander over the room. The boys still hadn't started a fight, but were playing more or less quietly, spreading the contents of the Monopoly game all over the floor. Malcolm seemed to have recovered from his earlier trip to the bathroom; he was frowning down at the board, counting his money with a concentrated expression on his face. Archer looked over to where Hoshi was sitting and saw that she'd fallen asleep, her head resting against Porthos' side. He got up.

"Alright, kids," he said. "Bedtime."

No one paid him the slightest attention, except for Travis who briefly raised his head, giving him an indifferent glance, then looked back down and continued arranging the Monopoly houses by color and size. Archer cleared his throat.

"Umm...it's bedtime," he said a little helplessly. "You have to go to bed now."

"I'm not tired," Travis said, destroying his city with one swipe of his hand. "I don't want to go to bed. I need to finish this first."

Kneeling down beside him, Archer started gathering up the small houses and put them back into the box.

"You can finish that tomorrow," he said, and jumped when Travis let out an outraged cry.

"My city!" He started to cry. Archer stopped picking up the houses and gave him a puzzled look.

"But you just messed it all up yourself!"

"MY CITY!" Travis wailed, and Archer winced at his high-pitched tone of voice. "YOU WRECKED MY CITY!!"

"I didn't do anything to your city!" Archer said, but his voice was drowned out by Travis who was howling away at the top of his lungs. Archer stared at him for a moment, at a loss what to do. Then a thought came to his mind.

"Listen," he said, raising his voice to be heard, "if you stop crying now and go to bed, I'll read you a bedtime story!"

Travis closed his mouth and blinked up at him. "What story?"

Archer shrugged. "Whatever you want," he said, relieved to see Travis smile again. Taking him by the hand, he got up.

"Well, you two," he said to Trip and Malcolm. "It's bedtime. Put that game away now."

Trip looked up. "I'm not goin' to bed at the same time he is," he said indignantly, jerking his chin in Travisâ€™ direction. "I'm a lot older than him."

Archer was beginning to realize that agreeing to babysit these monsters had been one of the bigger mistakes of his career.

"And when do you plan to go to bed?" he asked, but his sarcasm was wasted on Trip who just shrugged, turning back to the board.

"Not now."

Before Archer had the chance to answer, Malcolm spoke up as well, obviously realizing that Archer was about to get a little annoyed.

"In an hour, okay?"

"Two hours!" Trip said. Archer gritted his teeth, inwardly counting to ten before he spoke.

"One hour, and not a minute longer."

"Yes, sir," Malcolm said, and Trip grumbled something that sounded like "huh, okay".

While Travis was brushing his teeth, Archer tried to convince Hoshi to leave her spot under the biobed and put on her pajamas.

"Come on, Hoshi," he said, gently trying to loosen her grip on Porthos' midst. "You have to go to bed now."

"I don't want to go to bed," Hoshi whined, scrunching up her face as she looked up at him. "I want my mom."

"I know," Archer said. "You know what, you can take Porthos to bed with you. Then you won't feel lonely."

Slowly, Hoshi got up, taking him by the hand, and followed him to the bathroom.

When she and Travis were all settled in bed, Porthos lying curled up on a pillow nearby, Hoshi started to whine again.

"I don't want to sleep in here," she said. "I'm afraid of the monsters."

"The monsters?" Archer asked, sitting down next to her bed. "There are no monsters."

"Yes there are. Malcolm said there're monsters in here. Big green and slimy ones, and they eat only girls."

Thanks a lot, Mr. Reed, Archer thought. Aloud he said, "There're no monsters in here. Really. Malcolm was only pulling your leg. Besides, you've got Porthos with you."

"He's too small. He can't eat the monsters."

Archer smiled. "Oh, don't underestimate him. I always have Porthos with me at night, and I've never been eaten by monsters." Hoshi still didn't look quite convinced, but nodded all the same, lying back down on her pillow.

"Okay," she said. Archer got up and was about to leave the room when Travis spoke up.

"You promised you'd read to me!"

Archer turned around, sighing. "You wouldn't forget that, would you." He sat back down next to Travis. "So, what do you want me to read?"

Travis bent down and picked up some padds that were lying next to his mattress.

"Dr. Phlox gave me these," he said, handing the padds to Archer. "He said I'd like them."

Archer scrolled through them and saw that each padd contained at least seven picture books. He looked back at Travis who was watching him expectantly.

"You don't want me to read all of them, do you?"

Travis nodded emphatically. "My dad reads me five books every night!"

Archer swallowed. "Three, okay?"

Travis considered for a moment, then nodded again. "Okay, three. But I want my favorite."

Archer leafed through the padds. "Which one would that be?"

Travis grinned. "'Hamster Huey And The Gooey Kablooie'!"

"What?"

"'Hamster Huey And The-'"

"Okay, okay," Archer said, deciding that reading a story named 'Hamster Huey And The Gooey Kablooie' wasn't too high a price for Travis to finally fall asleep. "Well, let's see..."

Fifteen minutes later, Archer had reached the middle of the third book and found himself wondering what kind of people thought up these picture book stories. Travis, on the other hand, seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed them, but by now he was slowly nodding off, his gaze becoming hazy and his eyes beginning to droop. Just when Archer put aside the last padd, quietly getting to his feet, he suddenly heard a loud crash, followed by an outraged scream.

"YOU CHEAT!"

Archer took a quick glance at Hoshi and Travis, who were both fast asleep by now, then hurried towards the door. The bulkhead slid aside and Archer stopped in his tracks.

"I WASN'T CHEATING! YOU'RE JUST TOO DAFT TOâ€“AAGH! LET GO OF MY HAIR!"

Malcolm and Trip were rolling in a heap on the sickbay floor between the scattered Monopoly pieces, kicking and screaming and gripping handfuls of each other's hair. Trip had just whacked his elbow against Malcolm's chin while Malcolm tried to strangle him when Archer ripped them apart.

"Whatâ€™s going on here?! Are you out of your mind?â€

"He didn't pay his rent! TWICE!!" raged Trip, struggling in Archer's firm grip.

"He's LYING!!" Malcolm shouted, blood dripping from his lip. "And he was cheating, TOO! He kept taking money from the bank!!"

Archer looked from one disheveled, red-faced boy to the other. "What are you talking about?"

"HE DIDN'T PAY HIS RENT!!!" Trip managed to break free and attacked Malcolm, who gave him a hard shove. Stumbling backwards, Trip landed on his butt between all the Monopoly pieces and started to cry.

Archer grabbed Malcolm by the arm. "Are you crazy?!"

"He started it!" Malcolm said, wiping his lip. When he saw the blood on his hand, he started to cry as well. "I'm bleeding!" he panicked. "Bleeding!!"

"You'll live," Archer said, not-too-gently taking him by the arms and pushing him onto a nearby chair. Then he went over to where Trip was still sitting on the Monopoly board and pulled him to his feet.

"Stop crying," he said. "You brought this on yourself."

"He pushed me!" Trip wailed. "Right into that Monopoly stuff!"

Archer pulled him over to the chair next to Malcolm's. "Well, hitting other people hard enough to make them bleed isnâ€™t a very good choice either, is it."

Sniffling, Trip sat down, pulling his chair away from Malcolm's and glaring at the other boy. Malcolm was still thoroughly occupied with smearing the blood all over his face, shirt and hands and took no notice of anyone around him. Archer sat down on the edge of a biobed, letting out a deep breath.

"So," he said, "now what exactly was the problem?"

"He didn't pay his rent," Trip said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Twice. And when I told him to, he said he'd already paid it."

"I did pay it!" Malcolm looked up, an expression of outrage on his face. "He's lying!"

Archer sighed. "And that's why you were trying to kill each other?"

None of them answered, both staring down at the floor, sniffling sulkily. Archer got up.

"Well, I don't think I have to tell you that it's not okay to punch someone in the face so hard that they're bleeding..." He saw Malcolm shooting Trip a triumphant look and continued, "...or to push them into a heap of sharp objects, either. I don't care who paid or didn't pay his rent, but-"

"Twice!" Trip said. "He didn't pay it twice!"

"...BUT I won't have this kind of behaviour from two of my senior o-...no, forget it." Archer felt a headache starting. "Anyway, next time try talking about it first before you start ripping off each other's head, okay? You're both old enough to know better." Archer looked from one boy to the other, and judging by their stubborn expressions he could see that he hadn't gotten through to them at all. "Well..." he said a little helplessly, "now go on and say sorry-"

"I won't say sorry to him!" Trip said, giving Malcolm another deadly glare. Malcolm stuck his tongue out at him, and Trip got up.

"See? See what he's doin'?" He advanced on Malcolm. "Oh, I'm gonna-"

Malcolm jumped up as well. "Yeah, what?!"

"Now stop it!" Archer grabbed them both by the arms. "What's wrong with you? It's just a game!"

"He didn't pay his-"

"I KNOW HE DIDN'T PAY HIS RENT!!"

"I DID pay it!!" Malcolm yelled, and Archer briefly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"Okay," he said. "Well. Fine. I see it's absolutely no use trying to talk to you, so I'd say you are both going to bed now."

"I'm not goin' to bed!" Trip cried, and Malcolm added, "Me neither!"

"Oh yes you are," Archer said, dragging them off towards the bathroom. Pushing the panel beside the door with his elbow, he released both their arms and pointed at the sink.

"Okay, brush your teeth, and you, wash that blood off your face."

He saw Trip glaring at Malcolm out of the corner of his eyes. "Don't you dare!" Archer said, and at the tone of his voice both boys quickly turned to the sink, busying themselves with the task of squeezing tooth paste onto their tooth brushes. The next few minutes passed in sulking silence, and Archer experienced once more the by now familiar feeling of surreality. These two were Trip and Malcolm, Chief Engineer and Head of Tactical of his ship, for God's sake, and here he was, trying to keep them from ramming their tooth brushes down each other's throat.

Before they entered the bedroom, Archer turned to the boys one more time.

"Okay, now don't you wake up the little ones," he said. "I've had enough trouble for one night."

Malcolm nodded curtly and Trip didn't say anything at all. Archer pushed the panel beside the door, and the bulkhead slid open.

"Night," he said, but neither of them answered, slowly shuffling past him into the bedroom.

When the door had closed behind them, Archer slumped against the wall, wiping his forehead. Raising his eyes, he surveyed the room and sighed as he saw his old Monopoly game scattered all over the floor. Slowly, he started gathering up the pieces, and his mood dropped by another few degrees as he saw just how much of it was broken. When he was done, he sadly regarded the bent and dented box for another moment, then put it away on a high shelf. He'd be damned if he ever let those two violent psychopaths get their hands on it again.

Collapsing on one of the biobeds, Archer let out a deep sigh. Silence. The sweet sound of silence. He realized he'd never really appreciated it before. Archer yawned, groping for the novel he'd left on the nightstand earlier.

Thank God they're in bed now, he thought. Well, but on the whole, I think I didn't do too bad.

He rolled onto his side, and a few minutes later he was absorbed in his reading.


	5. Babysitter Blues 2âThe Return Of The Monsters

Malcolm turned onto his back again, pulling the covers up to his chin. For a moment he listened to the even breathing coming from Travis and Hoshi, then turned his head, casting a furtive glance at Trip. Trip was still lying with his back turned to him, but Malcolm was quite sure he wasn't asleep. In the meantime, Malcolm's anger at Trip had almost disappeared, and he was starting to feel a bit sorry. After all, he _had_ cheated. He had not paid the rent not only twice, but at least five times before Trip had noticed â€“Trip had owned at least two thirds of the streets and twice as much money as he'd had, and Malcolm hadn't wanted to lose.

Now, however, he found himself wishing that he hadn't cheated, after all. It had gotten them into so much trouble, and, even worse, Trip seemed to be really angry with him. And even though Trip could be a little blockheaded sometimes, Malcolm found that it never really got boring when they played together. Ever since he'd suddenly found himself in this strange place and first met Trip, they had gotten along really well, and up until now, they hadn't really had any major disagreement, either. But at the moment it did seem like Trip would never even talk to him again.

Malcolm turned his head, looking over at Trip again. Well, he thought, it can't hurt to try.

"Trip?" he whispered. "Are you awake?"

Trip gave no answer, only pulled up his covers a little further. Malcolm was silent for a moment, then tried again.

"Hey, Trip! Are you awake?"

"Leave me alone," Trip grumbled. Malcolm rolled onto his side.

"Come on, Trip. This is boring!"

"I'm not talkin' to you anymore," Trip said, not turning around. "You cheated."

"Oh, come on!" Malcolm said. "We didn't finish that game anyway."

"Yeah, because you cheated."

Malcolm sighed, turning onto his back again. He really wished he hadn't cheated; it hadn't gotten him that much money, anyway, and Trip didnâ€™t seem willing to forgive him. For some time there was silence, and Malcolm felt his eyes beginning to droop when Trip's voice suddenly brought him back to the present.

"It was really unfair of Archer to send us to bed early."

Malcolm rolled onto his side, facing Trip who had turned around as well. He felt a grin spreading on his face.

"Yeah," he said. "But he didn't even shout that much, did he?"

"Naw," Trip shook his head. "Still, I don't see why he sent us to bed. We weren't fightin' anymore, anyway."

Malcolm nodded. He was glad to have Trip talking to him again, and racked his mind to find an interesting topic of conversation.

"You know," he said, trying to sound casual, "I thought that armory was really cool."

"That what?" Trip asked.

"The place where all the guns were," Malcolm said. "You know, with the phasers and photon torpedoes."

"How come you know what itâ€™s called?"

Malcolm grinned proudly. "My granddad told me. All the battle cruisers and submarines of the Royal Navy have one."

Trip's eyes widened. "Your granddad's in the Navy?"

"In the Royal Navy. But he's retired long since."

"Wow." Trip rolled onto his back again. "Yeah, that place was really cool. I'd like to go there again one of these days. But without Archer."

"He'd never let us go there on our own," Malcolm said. "He'd say it's too dangerous."

Trip looked at him again, and Malcolm saw a grin spreading on his face. "Only if we ask."

Malcolm stared at him. "We wouldn't get away," he said then. "Captain Archer would want to know where we are going."

Trip rolled his eyes. "Maan, we have to wait till he's asleep, of course."

Malcolm considered. It was a very tempting idea, having a few hours in the armory for themselves without any grown-up supervising them. Maybe he'd be able to get a closer look at the torpedoes Captain Archer had said he was "not to touch"...

"We're going to get into so much trouble," he said, but Trip waved a dismissive hand.

"We didn't get into any trouble about that resequencer-thingy either. They'll never notice."

Malcolm was silent for a moment. "Do you think he's asleep yet?"

Trip shook his head. "Not yet. Let's wait for two more hours."

"Okay," Malcolm said, feeling excitement build in the pit of his stomach at the thought of being able to tinker with all the weapons in that wonderful armory in only two hours time.

###

"The monsters are back!"

Archer felt someone tug at his sleeve and turned his head, blearily blinking into the darkness. He could make out a small figure standing next to his biobed and a moment later he recognized Hoshi.

"Whatâ€™s the matter?" he asked, blinking a few times to get rid of the sleepy haze in front of his eyes.

Hoshi's eyes were wide as she answered. "The monsters are back. I'm afraid of the monsters."

Groaning, Archer sat up, pushing his blanket aside and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Has Mr. Reed been telling you bedtime stories again?"

Hoshi blinked up at him. "Porthos can't eat the monsters," she said earnestly. "They're too big."

"You've been dreaming," Archer said, getting up and taking her by the hand. "Why don't you just go and lie down again-"

"No," Hoshi said, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't want to go where the monsters are. I'm afraid of the monsters."

Archer sighed. "Alright," he said, "I'll go with you. The monsters are afraid of me." And if they aren't yet, then they're going to be, he added in thought, thinking that someday he would tell Malcolm some bedtime stories of his own. Hoshi looked up at him, an amazed expression on her face. "Really?" she asked, and Archer nodded.

"Terrified."

He opened the bedroom door and immediately knew that something was wrong. Malcolm's and Trip's beds were empty, their covers thrown carelessly onto the floor. The two boys were nowhere to be seen. Archer stared down at Hoshi. "Where are they?" he asked. Hoshi turned her head, taking a quick glance over the room.

"The monsters? They're gone. I think you scared them away."

Archer shook his head. "No, Malcolm and Trip! Where did they go?"

Hoshi blinked. "They're not here. Maybe they were eaten by the monsters."

"I told you, there are no monsters," Archer said, just a little irritated. "Did you see where they went?"

Hoshi stared up at him, her eyes filling with tears again. "I'm...I'm afraid of the monsters," she sniffled. "They ate Trip and Malcolm." She began to cry. Archer looked down at her, at a complete loss what to do. Then he crouched down in front of her, looking her straight in the eyes, hoping he would be able to get through to her.

"Look, Hoshi," he said. "There are no monsters. That was a dream of yours. Malcolm and Trip were not eaten by any monsters, they're gone and I need to know where they went. Did they say anything to you?"

Hoshi flung her arms around his neck, crying harder. "I'm afraid of the monsters," she wailed. "I don't want to go in there. There're monsters in there. I want my mom."

"Why am I not surprised." Archer picked her up, patting her on the back. "Now calm down, Hoshi. There really aren't any monsters. Why don't you-"

From the corner of his eyes he noticed a movement and a moment later he saw Travis sitting up in his bed.

"What's going on?" Travis asked sleepily, looking around. "Where are Trip and Malcolm?"

Archer tried to loosen Hoshi's grip on his neck. "I don't know," he said. "I need to go look for them. Why don't the two of you just lie down again and-"

"NO!" Hoshi screamed, her grip tightening so hard that Archer felt like he was being strangled. "I DON'T WANT TO STAY HERE! I'M AFRAID OF THE MONSTERS!"

"Alright, alright, alright," Archer said, gasping for air. "You can come with me. But you get back to bed," he said to Travis who had gotten up as well. Travis shook his head emphatically.

"I'm not staying here all alone. I'm afraid of the dark."

Archer stared at him. "But you weren't before!" he sputtered, and Travis shrugged.

"I am now. Can I come, too?"

Archer took a deep breath, then decided it didn't matter anyway and took him by the hand. "Okay, okay," he said. "You can come, too." 

â€œIâ€™m afraid of the monsters! I want my mom!â€

Archer looked at Hoshi who was still howling away at the top of her voice. â€œI told you, the monsters are afraid of me. Iâ€™m going to tell them that-â€œ

She broke off for a moment, staring at him with wide eyes. "There...there are monsters?" she whispered, then broke into noisy sobs again. "I DON'T WANT TO GO WHERE THE MONSTERS ARE!!"

Smart move, Jonathan, Archer thought, heading towards the sickbay doors with a screaming Hoshi on his arm and Travis in tow.

"What kind of monsters?" Travis asked curiously. "The big slimy green ones Malcolm told us about? They eat only girls, I'm not afraid of them."

This caused Hoshi to cry even louder and Archer to quicken his pace. Opening the door, he looked down the corridor, considering where to go first.

I bet they're in the messhall, he thought, trying not to think of what they might be doing there just now. Or they're on the bridge, playing Crash The Ship. Or maybe they went down to Engineering...

Shuddering at the thought, Archer pressed the turbolift button and decided that it would probably be best to go to the bridge and scan for them. They could be anywhere on the ship.

On the way to the bridge, Hoshi kept howling in a high-pitched voice right next to his ear, Travis kept bouncing up and down beside him, talking about everything in general and monsters in particular and Archer felt himself coming closer and closer to losing it completely. Why me, he thought. I didn't do anything. 

When the turbolift door slid aside, Archer stepped onto the bridge, expecting the worst, but neither was Malcolm standing at the tactical station, firing off the ship's torpedoes, nor was Trip sitting on the science console, taking it apart. The bridge was empty. Walking over to the science station, Archer tried to loosen Hoshi's grip on his neck in order to put her down, but she was sticking to him like bubblegum, not letting go.

"What're you doing?" Travis asked, coming up beside him and reaching out for the buttons on the science console. Archer snatched his hand away.

"DON'T you touch that," he said. Travis pouted.

"Why?"

Ignoring him, Archer began to awkwardly operate the scanners' controls with one hand, initiating a full internal scan of the ship. As he had expected, there was one Vulcan bio sign in T'Pol's cabin, one Denobulan in Phlox' quarters, three human ones on the bridge and...Archer froze.

No, he thought, no, this can't be. Not the armory!

A thousand horrible images popped up in his mind at once, and Archer set off in a run for the turbolift doors, dragging a startled Travis along behind him.

Two minutes later, he arrived at the armory door, panting, and slammed his fist down on the panel. The door slid open.

"I'M GONNA GETCHA, YOU ALIEN BASTARD!!"

Archer heard a loud crash beside him, and a second later Trip came charging from behind a container next to the door, brandishing a phase pistol and yelling like mad.

"YAAAAAAAHHHHHH-"

Quickly putting Hoshi down, Archer lunged forward and grabbed him by the arm, yanking the phaser from his hand.

"WHAT THE BLAZES DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

Trip stared at him, eyes wide with shock.

"Wha..."

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!" Archer looked around, on the verge of panic. "Where's Malcolm?!"

"I'm...I'm here, sir," a small voice came from across the room. Archer saw Malcolm emerge from behind one of the torpedoes and was shocked to see that he was holding a phase pistol as well.

"PUT THAT DOWN!!" he yelled, and Malcolm jumped, immediately dropping the weapon. The phaser fell to the floor with a clatter, and, releasing Trip, Archer made a grab for it. Examining both pistols, Archer noted with immense relief that they weren't equipped with power cells, so that even if one of the boys had actually pulled the trigger, they wouldn't have been able to cause any damage. Slamming the weapons down onto a console next to him, Archer turned to the two boys who were standing next to each other, shock and dismay written all over their faces as they stared at him.

"What-were-you-thinking?" Archer took a step towards them. "Sneaking off in the middle of the night, playing around with phase pistols, what were you THINKING?!!"

"It... it was just in fun..." Trip said in a shaky voice. Archer took a deep breath.

"FUN?!! YOU COULD'VE KILLED EACH OTHER WITH THESE WEAPONS! ARE YOU COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR MIND?!!"

"B-but we didn't break anything..."

"I don't CARE if you broke anything or not! Didn't you LISTEN?!! Those weapons are dangerous, they're REAL weapons! If they'd been loaded you could've KILLED each other!" Archer started to pace. "I really don't know what's wrong with you two! You don't listen to what I say, you don't listen to what Phlox says, you're constantly getting into troubleâ€“it's a never-ending story, and I WON'T have it! Do you have any idea of how scared I was, waking up and finding you gone, ANYTHING could have happened! And going to the armory in the middle of the night, when I explicitly told you NOT TO TOUCH these weapons! I'm REALLY disappointed in you!"

Turning back to the boys, Archer noticed tears running down their cheeks and stopped in his tracks.

Great, he thought, and now they're crying. Squinting his eyes shut, Archer pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to take slow, even breaths. Okay, Jon. You caught your Chief Engineer and Tactical Officer playing Mars Attacks in the armory in the middle of the night, and now they're crying because you shouted at them, but you're not going crazy. You're not going crazy.

Opening his eyes, he looked back at Trip and Malcolm and had just opened his mouth to say something when suddenly there was a loud thump, followed by a yowl of pain.

"OWW!"

Archer swiveled around and saw Travis lying on the floor at the foot of the stairs that led to the upper level, screaming at the top of his voice.

Just what I need, he thought, hurrying over to Travis and helping him to his feet.

"What's wrong?" he asked, raising his voice to drown out Travis' high-pitched howling. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"I FELL DOWN THE STAIRS!"

You could at least have knocked yourself unconscious, Archer caught himself thinking, then stomped down on the thought. This was not what he was supposed to be thinking right now.

"Did you hurt yourself?" he asked again, and Travis wailed, "I bumped my knee!"

Archer sighed. "Come on, Travis, don't cry. It's okay."

But Travis kept on screaming, and Archer gave up, got to his feet and looked around. Trip and Malcolm were still standing where he'd left them, sniffling and wiping their cheeks, while Hoshi was sitting on the floor next to the door, crying as well. Looking back down at Travis' scrunched up face, Archer felt the mad urge to laugh.

This is my senior crew, he thought. My senior crew!

Sitting down on the stairs, he buried his face in his hands. Why me, he thought. Why me?

"Captain?"

Archer turned his head and saw Phlox standing in the doorway. Looking around the room, the doctor raised his eyebrows with a mildly surprised expression on his face.

"What's going on here?"

When Hoshi became aware of the doctor standing there, she scrambled to her feet and flung her arms around his legs, sobbing miserably.

"There are monsters in here! I don't want to be where the monsters are! I want my mom!"

Picking her up, Phlox came over to where Archer was sitting, his eyebrows climbing even higher as his eyes fell on the still crying Travis and the two older boys who were standing a few feet away, looking rather shaken.

"Is everything alright, Captain?"

Archer let out a shaky laugh. "Of course everything's alright. Everybody's happy, aren't they?"

Phlox blinked. "What happened?"

"Ask them." Archer thrust his thumb at Trip and Malcolm, who flinched. Phlox turned around, facing the boys.

"Well, what did you do this time?"

"Ermmm..." Both of them stared at the floor, shifting their feet. "We didn't do nothin'," Trip mumbled finally. "We just..."

Phlox raised his eyebrows. "Ye-es?"

Trip still wouldn't look up. "We just wanted to have some fun, so we thought we'd -"

"Oh, you thought?" Archer interrupted acidly. "I didn't notice."

Malcolm sniffled again, and Phlox shifted Hoshi on his arm. "Am I correct in my assumption that these two young gentlemen are here without your permission, Captain?" he asked and Archer sighed.

"That's one way to put it." He got up again, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "These two "gentlemen" snuck off to the armory in the middle of the night, played around with phase pistols, and now they've got the nerve to say they just wanted to have "some fun"." Archer glared at Trip who quickly looked back down at the floor. Phlox cleared his throat.

"Now, Captain, it's late and we're all very tired, so why don't we talk this through tomorrow, hm?" He looked back at the boys. "Well, you two, I think you know that this was very irresponsible behavior on your part, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," Malcolm mumbled, and Trip nodded quickly.

"As I said, we're going to talk about this tomorrow. Now why don't we all stop crying, go to bed and have a good night's sleep, so we won't be all cranky in the morning, hm?"

Even though Archer still had trouble suppressing the urge to take Malcolm and Trip and bang their heads together, Phlox' weird statement almost startled a laugh out of him.

"Good idea, Doc," he said, picking up Travis, who'd stopped crying by now. "Let's get down to sickbay and get these monsters settled."

"Monsters?" Hoshi raised her head, and Archer could have kicked himself, but Phlox only smiled at her, patting her on the back.

"There are no monsters, Hoshi," he said pleasantly, andâ€“wonders never ceasedâ€“Hoshi seemed to believe him, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

On their way down to sickbay no one said much, including Trip and Malcolm who stayed a few feet behind Archer and Phlox, shuffling their feet and sniffling occasionally. When he pressed the button for the turbolift, Archer heard Malcolm's subdued voice.

"This is all your fault," he whispered to Trip. "I told you we'd get in trouble."

"I'm not the one who wanted to go to the armory," Trip retorted, but fell silent when Phlox raised his eyebrows at him.

When they entered sickbay, Travis and Hoshi were fast asleep and didnâ€™t stir when Phlox and Archer put them to bed. Trip and Malcolm crept into their beds without another word, disappearing under the covers, and Archer almost felt a little sorry for them. Almost.

As soon as he and Phlox had left the kids' bedroom, Archer started off towards his biobed, but Phlox put a hand on his arm.

"Captain, I hope you don't mind me saying so," he said, "but you do look tired. Why don't you go to your own quarters and get some rest as well, hm?"

"So I won't be all cranky in the morning, right doc?" Archer said with a half-smile. Phlox gave him a wide grin.

"Exactly, Captain."

Feeling both relieved and a little guilty, Archer gave Phlox a last nod and left sickbay, heading for his cabin. As he entered his wonderfully quiet, kid-less quarters, he gave a deep sigh, collapsing on his bed.

Let's just hope we'll find that Lake of Learning soon, he thought, closing his eyes. And two seconds later Jonathan Archer, too, was fast asleep.


	6. Babysitter Blues 3âPut The Lime In The Coconut

Three days later, Archer had more or less recovered from his night in sickbay, and things had returned to normalâ€“well, as normal as things could get when you were on a quest to find the Lake of Learning and drink the Water of Wisdom with a bunch of kids who used to be your senior officers. Malcolm and Trip had stopped flinching every time he entered the room, and that morning Archer and the boys had even had quite a lot of fun together making breakfast pancakes in the galley. The pancakes had been horrible, but Phlox and the kids had thoroughly enjoyed them (Archer had dumped his when Malcolm and Trip weren't looking).

In the early evening of that day, Archer was sitting at a table in the messhall, trying to catch up on some of his reading. The kids were playing quietly, but somehow they didn't seem to be their usual energetic selves, bickering all the time and making only half as much of a racket as usual. Especially Malcolm had been unusually cranky this afternoon, refusing to eat lunch, griping about how bored he was and acting quite irritably in general. When he'd started the third fight in less than half an hour, whacking Trip on the head with the checkerboard because he'd lost, Phlox intervened, took away the board and pulled Malcolm to his feet.

"Let me go!" Malcolm shouted, grabbing for the board. "He's cheating all the time! I won't have it!"

"I'm not cheatin'," Trip said a little shakily, holding his head. "You're just stupid, that's why you lost!"

Malcolm went crimson. "I'Mâ€“NOTâ€“STUPID!" he screeched, lunging for Trip, but Phlox caught him just in time.

"Why don't you just calm down, and then we can sit down and talk this through-"

"I don't want to talk to any of you, and especially not to him!" Malcolm yelled, yanking his arm free from Phlox' grip. "Why can't everybody just leave me ALONE?"

Throwing Trip one last deadly glare, he stomped off towards the door and a moment later the bulkhead slid shut behind him.

"Whew!" Archer said, letting out a breath. "What brought that on?"

Phlox shrugged. "I have no idea, Captain.â€“You alright?" he asked Trip, who was still nursing the spot where Malcolm had hit him with the checkerboard. Trip nodded.

"Think there's gonna be a bump though." He looked up at Phlox. "Do you know what's wrong with him? I didn't cheat, really I didn't. And it's the first game he lost, anyway, before that he won three games in a row!" With a sad glance at the messhall door, Trip turned back to the table and started doodling on the piece of paper he and Malcolm had been keeping their games' scores on. "He ainâ€™t gonna play with me no more."

At his devastated tone of voice, Archer had a hard time biting back a grin. "I'm sure he will. He's just a little cranky at the moment. I think he said something about having a headache earlier. Maybe that's what's wrong."

Trip nodded unhappily, obviously not quite convinced. Phlox got up, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment, Captain," he said and Archer nodded, glad that it wasn't him who had to go after Malcolm. As much as he had learned about children in the last six days, Archer had no idea what to say to his Armory Officer to make him understand that he couldn't clobber his friends with a checkerboard; even if said Armory Officer was only nine years old. He turned back to his reading, keeping an eye on Travis and Hoshi who were sitting on the floor, tickling Porthos. Porthos lay on his back with all four legs in the air, obviously having a great time.

Fifteen minutes later Phlox returned, sighing deeply as he sat back down on his chair. Archer raised his head.

"Something wrong, doc?"

"Just as I thought, Captain," Phlox said. "When you said Malcolm had been complaining about a headache, I remembered that he hasn't been eating much either. And when children get that cranky, they're most likely coming down with something."

Archer sat up straight. "Malcolm's sick?"

Phlox nodded. "Don't worry, Captain, it's just a normal influenza. He's running a fever, so I put him to bed. He fell asleep almost immediately."

Trip looked up. "Was he still mad at me?"

"No," Phlox shook his head. "Actually, he told me to tell you he was sorry. He didn't really think you cheated."

"Well, I didn't." Trip grinned, obviously quite relieved. "Can I visit him later?â€“Is he very sick?" he asked concernedly.

"No," Phlox said. "It's just flu. And yes, you can visit him later when he's awake." He eyed Trip closely, and Archer, following his gaze, noticed that Trip's face was unusually pale except for two bright red patches on his cheeks.

"What about you?" Phlox asked. "Feel alright?"

Trip nodded. "I'm fine," he said a little too quickly. "Maybe a little tired, but I don't need to lie down. I'm okay."

Even Archer could see that this wasn't quite the truth; looking closely at Trip for the first time today he saw that he looked indeed very tired, dark smudges under his eyes and all. He looked sick. Phlox got up.

"Well, I guess we'd better get them to sickbay for a quick check-up," he said. "If one's got it, then they'll all come down with it sooner or later."

"I told you I'm not sick," Trip said, throwing Phlox an uneasy glance. "You're not gonna make me go to bed, are ya?"

Phlox put a hand to Trip's forehead and frowned. "I most certainly will," he said. "You're definitely running a fever, young man."

Trip opened his mouth to protest, but when Archer raised his eyebrows at him he closed it again.

"I don't wanna go to bed," he grumbled. "I'm not sick."

"Let me be the judge of that, hm?" Phlox said, walking over to where Porthos and the kids were now engaged in a wild free-for-all. Catching Hoshi around the waist, Phlox picked her up and took Travis by the hand. "Come on, let's go."

A pouting frown on his face, Trip got up as well and followed Phlox to the door. He didn't voice any more protests, though, and Archer noted that he was moving a little sluggishly, shuffling along the corridors rather than running and jumping as he usually did.

Just what we need, Archer thought. Four sick children to take care of.

While Trip was changing into his pajamas, Phlox ran a quick scan of Travis and Hoshi and discovered much to Archer's relief that they hadn't yet caught the flu Trip and Malcolm were coming down with. T'Pol, who'd been ordered to sickbay for a quick flu check as well, was now standing beside the door, impatiently shifting her feet.

"May I leave now, doctor? Your scans showed that I am immune to the virus, and I do need to finish my analysis of that formula I found in the database..."

"Yes, you can go. Just-" But the sickbay doors had already closed behind her. Phlox sighed. "Teenagers."

"We don't get to see much of her these days, do we?" Archer sat down on the edge of a biobed. "You think everything's alright?"

"Oh yes," Phlox said. "It's normal behaviour for adolescents of most known species to express the wish to be "left the hell alone", as I believe they would put it. By the way, Captain, I believe T'Pol has got a mild crush on you."

Archer's mouth dropped open. "What?"

Phlox smiled. "Indeed. She asked me whether you were bonded and looked quite...relieved when I told her that you were not."

"You told her that?" Archer asked, horrified. Phlox shrugged.

"Why not? It's the truth."

"Doc! It's bad enough having to babysit a bunch of kids who happen to be my senior officers! I don't need a teenage Vulcan mooning over me as well!"

Phlox raised his eyebrows. "I would hardly call it "mooning", Captain. I merely implied that T'Pol thinks of you as an attractive male who-"

"Enoughâ€“ofâ€“thisâ€“conversation, okay?" Archer held up his hands. "T'Pol does not have a crush on me, and even if she does, there is no need to discuss this any further, alright?"

"Who has a crush on you?" Trip was standing next to him, wearing one of the overlarge t-shirts the kids were using as pajamas. Archer sighed.

"No one," he said. Trip, who seemed to be very interested in the whole business, opened his mouth again, but the look on Archer's face stopped him from asking any further. Phlox had taken out his med scanner and ran it over Trip once again, his eyebrows drawing together as he watched the small display.

"Hmm, your temperature has gone up in the last fifteen minutes. 38,8 Â°C!" He tucked the scanner away. "Off you go to bed, young man! And put on some socks, or your feet will get all cold out in the corridors."

"Why can't Malcolm and me stay in sickbay?" Trip asked as he pulled on his socks which were way too big for him. Phlox gathered up a few pillows and put a blanket around Trip's shoulders.

"I don't want the little ones to catch your virus, so I put you up in the Captain's quarters."

"What?" Archer stared at the doctor, but Phlox only smiled at him and shrugged.

"I couldn't think of a better place, and since someone needs to stay with them anyway, I thought..."

Archer sighed. "You could have asked me first."

Phlox pressed the button to open the sickbay doors and they stepped out in the corridor. Despite the fever, Trip seemed to be feeling a lot better than before; he kept talking all the way to the turbolift, obviously excited at the thought of getting to share quarters with the Captain. Archer on the other hand didn't feel quite as enthusiastic about having the two boys in his quarters for an indefinite amount of time. Maybe they wouldn't be quite as much trouble when sick, but Archer still had the feeling that something as minor as the flu wouldn't keep Malcolm and Trip from having a good time.

"Wouldn't it be better to keep sick people in sickbay?" he asked in a last feeble attempt to make Phlox change his mind, but the doctor waved a dismissive hand.

"Oh, that's no problem, Captain. Malcolm and Trip don't need constant medical attention; after all, it's only flu. But someone needs to see to it that they stay in bed and don't exhaust themselves, and I think you're just the person for that job."

Archer didn't like the way Phlox was smiling when he made that statement, but decided not to pursue the matter. Resigning to the fact that he was going to share quarters with a couple of nine-year-old boys for at least three days, he pressed the button for the turbolift and ushered Trip into the lift. Trip was still talking a mile a minute.

"D'you have a TV in your quarters?" he asked, standing on his toes to press the button for C-deck. "It doesn't matter if you don't, I know lots of fun games you can play when you're sick. Back home my brother and me used to-"

"You're supposed to get some rest," Archer said, a feeling of dread rising within him at the thought of having to play "fun games" Trip and his brother had come up with. "And don't you give Malcolm any ideas about-"

"Can we have some coke?" Trip asked, obviously not listening to a word Archer was saying. "My mom always lets me have coke when I'm sick, she says it's good for the stomach. I don't have a stomach ache at the moment, but maybe it'll be good for flu as well. I think-"

Archer leaned back against the turbolift wall, shooting Phlox a glare out of the corner of his eyes, but the doctor ignored him.

When they entered his quarters, Archer took a quick glance around and decided that it could have been worse. At least he could sleep in his own bed; Phlox had put Malcolm up on a mattress on the floor next to the wall, where he was lying all wrapped up in his covers, sleepily blinking up at them as they came into the room. As his eyes fell on Trip, his expression became less sleepy immediately, and he sat up, a grin spreading on his feverish face.

"You're going to stay in here, too?"

Trip nodded, took a run and jumped onto Archer's bed, beginning to bounce up and down. "It's fun bein' sick."

Malcolm started out of bed, obviously intending to join Trip when Phlox grabbed him by the arm. "Oh no, you stay in bedâ€“and you stop that nonsense, young man, your temperature is high enough as it is!" he said to Trip who plopped down on his butt, looking slightly disappointed.

"Where'm I gonna sleep?" he asked. Phlox who'd finished running his medscanner over Malcolm got up again.

"I'll get you a mattress," Phlox said. "Well, I expect the two of you to be VERY GOOD, and don't give poor Captain Archer a hard time, alright? It's very nice of him to let you stay in here, and we don't want to give him any trouble, understood?"

Both boys nodded earnestly, and Phlox smiled. "I know you won't."

Archer wasn't so sure, but said nothing. He helped Phlox getting Trip settled and watched as the doctor examined the two of them one more time.

"Almost 39,5 Â°C degrees both!" Phlox raised his eyebrows, tucking away his scanner. "Well, Captain, make sure they catch some sleep as soon as possible, and have them drink lots of fluids. I'm going to put the little ones to bed now; I'll be back later to check on them again. Do you think you'll manage?"

Archer nodded, feeling a little annoyed at being patronized by the doctor. "Sure, doc."

When the door had slit shut behind Phlox, Archer turned to Trip and Malcolm. "Well, you heard the doctor. So why don't you just lie down and-"

"I know a fun game we can play!" Trip cried, getting to his feet again. "My brother and me used to play it. It's called Don't Touch The Ground!"

Before Archer could say a word, Malcolm was up and out of bed as well. "What are the rules?"

"Oh, basically there are no rules," Trip said. "You just jump from the bed to the chair to the desk and so on, and all the while you try not to touch the floor. It's fun, especially in a room as small as this one."

"We are not going to play this game," Archer said in his Captain's voice. "Get back into bed, you two. Now!"

Pouting, Trip plopped down on his bed again. "But it's fun!"

"Yeah, and it's going to ruin my furniture. Besides, you're supposed to get some rest."

Malcolm, who'd sat back down on his bed as well, spoke up. "Madeline and I always play Gross Out. Everyone has to think up something really gross- "

"We're not going to play Gross Out, either," Archer said a little desperately. "What about..." He racked his mind, trying to think of something they could do that wouldn't include wrecking his quarters respectively making everyone barf like a chicken. Then he remembered Travis and Hamster Huey. "Well, I could read something to you."

"Naw, that's boring," Trip said, pulling a face. Archer sighed.

"Look, I can't have you jumping around on the furniture, and as much fun as Gross Out may be, I have the distinct impression that it would end up with everybody feeling quite sick, and we don't want that, do we. So, what about..." He tried to think of any childrenâ€™s books he'd read as a boy, but came up with none. "...Treasure Island?" he suggested a little helplessly. Malcolm shook his head emphatically.

"Iâ€™ve read that, it's awfully boring," he said, pulling up his covers. "You could read us Harry Potter."

Trip's face lit up. "Yeah!"

Archer's heart sank. "Um...maybe there's something else you like..."

"NO!" they both cried in unison. "Harry Potter!"

"Okay, okay," Archer sighed, getting up and walking over to his desk. After heâ€™d found the book in the computer's database, he downloaded it to a padd, then turned back to the boys.

"And there's really no other book you'd- "

"NO! Harry Potter!"

Archer held up his hands. "Okay, I got it. Harry Potter." Settling down on his bed, he took another glance at Malcolm and Trip who were watching him expectantly.

If I ever get that Q character to change them back to normal, I hope they won't remember this, he thought, shifting a little to get comfortable and switching on the padd. He cleared his throat.

"Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious..."

###

About forty-five minutes later Archer raised his head again, and to his surprise noticed that both boys were fast asleep. A little disappointed, he put the padd aside and stretched, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed, considering what to do next. Well, he could use the opportunity to catch up on some of his paper work. Or he could go to the bridge and catalogue some of the science data. Or...

Archer cast a glance at the padd on his nightstand, then shrugged.

Oh what the heck, he thought, picking it up again and settling back down on his bed. It was a little embarrassing to admit it, but he did want to know what would happen on the birthday outing.

###

The sound of the door swishing open startled Archer out of his sleep. He rolled onto his side, casting a bleary look at his alarm clock, and let out a weary sigh as he saw that it was just after 2 am.

Not again, Archer thought, pushing the covers aside and sitting up. As he saw that Malcolm's bed was empty, he quickly scrambled out of bed, switching on the lamp on his nightstand.

This boy and his fixation with the armory is going to be the death of me, he thought. And why does he always have to sneak off in the middle of the night?

Taking a quick glance at Trip who seemed to be fast asleep, Archer pressed the panel beside the door and stepped out into the corridor. At a distance of about thirty feet, he saw a small figure shuffling down the hallway heading towards the turbolift, and let out a deep breath. Well, at least he hadn't gotten very far.

"Malcolm!" he called, and Malcolm jumped, turning around.

"Wha-"

"Yes what," Archer said, walking towards him. "Where do you think you're going?"

Malcolm blinked up at him, a miserable expression on his face. His cheeks were glowing red and he shivered in the cool air of the corridor, his teeth chattering. Archer sighed.

"Where do you think you're going?" he repeated. "It's 2 am. You're sick. Get back to bed."

Malcolm scrunched his eyes shut. "I have a headache," he mumbled, starting off for the turbolift again. Archer caught him by the arm. He was beginning to feel a little worried.

"Wait, stop there. Where are you going?"

Malcolm gave him a bleary look. "Turbolift."

"And where do you want to go with the turbolift?"

Malcolm was silent for a moment, obviously trying to remember where exactly he'd planned to wander off to. "Phlox," he said then.

"You wanted to go to Dr. Phlox?" Archer inquired, and Malcolm nodded. Archer raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

Malcolm blinked again, apparently irritated at being held up for so long. "I have a headache," he repeated a little impatiently.

Archer sighed. "Well, you can't just run off like that, you know. You should've woken me up."

Malcolm looked at him for another moment, then resumed his slow journey to the turbolift. "No."

Archer stared after him for a moment, then quickly caught up with him, taking him by the arm again. "Now wait a minute. I think you've got quite a fever, you don't seem to be feeling so great. How about we go back to my quarters and I'll call-"

"No," Malcolm said, feebly trying to pull his arm free from Archer's grip. "I want to go home."

Archer shook his head, feeling a little sorry for Malcolm as he saw just how out of it he seemed to be.

"No, you can't go home now," he said gently. "Let's get you back to bed, and I'll call Phlox. He can give you something for the headache." When Malcolm just stood there, not moving in either direction, Archer took him by the hand. "Now come on," he said, and Malcolm followed him without another word, stumbling along behind him as they walked back to Archer's quarters. As they entered, Archer saw that Trip had woken up as well and was sitting up in bed, his blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"Where've you been?" he asked, blurring the words even more than usual.

"Malcolm's not feeling so well," Archer said, ushering Malcolm over to his mattress and helping him lie down again. "I'm going to call Phlox. You go back to sleep."

"I don't feel so well, either," Trip said. "I don't think I can go back to sleep."

Sighing inwardly, Archer got back to his feet and pushed the comm button.

"Archer to Phlox."

"Phlox here." Archer heard someone whining in the background and recognized Hoshi's voice. "Just a minute, Hoshi," Phlox said brightly. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

Archer looked over at Malcolm, who'd buried himself under his blanket and was hardly visible anymore. "Doc, I think you'd better come here and take a look at Malcolm," he said. "Looks like he's gotten worse."

"Well, Captain- no, stop that, Travis, I'll be with you in a minute! Well, Captain, actually I'm a little tied up here right now. The two little ones have got quite a fever, and I don't think it'd be advisable to leave them alone at the moment."

Archer rested his forehead against the wall, suddenly feeling very tired. Now they're sick, too. Great, just great.

"I'll get him down to sickbay," he said. "Archer out."

He saw Trip open his mouth and held up a hand. "I know, I know," he said before Trip could say anything. "You want to come, too."

Walking over to Malcolm's bed, he crouched down beside him and carefully pulled the blanket away.

"Malcolm," he said. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to get up again."

Malcolm turned his head away, squinting his eyes shut and pulling the blanket back up again. "No. Go away."

Gently, Archer took him by the shoulder. "Malcolm. We have to get you down to sickbay. You need to get up now."

"Leave me alone," Archer heard Malcolm's muffled voice from under the covers. "I don't want to go to sickbay."

"But that's where you wanted to go before, remember?" Archer said a little desperately. "So Phlox can give you something for the headache."

Malcolm didn't answer, burying his face in the pillow and covering his ears with his hands. Sighing, Archer took the blanket and pulled it aside, then took Malcolm by the shoulder again, shaking him a little.

"Come on Malcolm," he said, "you have to get up-"

"NO!" Malcolm tried to push him away, groping for his blanket. "I don't want to get up! Leave me alone!" He began to cry. Archer gave up trying to convince Malcolm to get out of bed and simply picked him up, getting to his feet again. For a moment he was afraid Malcolm would start kicking and screaming, but Malcolm just rested his head on his shoulder, crying harder.

"Put me down," he sobbed. "I want to go home."

Patting him on the back, Archer turned back to Trip who was watching them with wide eyes. "Well come on, let's go."

"What's wrong with him?" Trip asked, following him to the door.

"He's sick."

"I'm sick as well," Trip said. As they walked down the corridor towards the turbolift, Trip fell silent for a moment, a considering look on his face. "My brother says if you get over 41, you die," he said then, looking up at Archer. "You think he's gonna die?"

"No, of course not," Archer said, hoping Malcolm hadn't heard that little remark. "He's going to be just fine."

By the time they arrived in sickbay, Malcolm had almost fallen asleep again. Trip, on the other hand, seemed pretty lively, telling some long story about his brother Archer had long since stopped listening to. Glancing around the room, Archer looked for Phlox, and a moment later the doctor emerged from the children's bedroom.

"Ah, Captain," he said. "I just got the little ones settled. Well, seems like someone is feeling a little under the weather, hm?"

"You could say that," Archer said, putting Malcolm down on one of the biobeds. Malcolm blinked and opened his eyes again, then reached up to shield them from the light.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled, and Archer smiled a little. Phlox came up beside him and glanced at the monitor, clucking his tongue.

"Tsk tsk, 41Â°C." Filling one of his hyposprays, he looked at Archer. "I'll give him something to lower the fever, then he should be feeling better in the morning."

Archer nodded, and, sitting down on a biobed, he watched Phlox press the hypospray against Malcolm's neck.

"I have a headache as well," Trip said, climbing onto the biobed next to Archer. "But I don't need a shot!" he added hastily as Phlox turned around, hypospray still in hand. The doctor pulled out his scanner and ran it over Trip, who was watching him suspiciously.

"I really don't need a shot!" he repeated emphatically, and Phlox nodded.

"I won't give you one," he said as he put his scanner away. "You're stable at 39,2 Â°C. Nothing a little sleep won't remedy." He smiled at Trip, who nodded, satisfied.

"But I don't wanna go to bed. I'm not tired."

"Oh yes, you are," Archer said, becoming aware of a dull throbbing behind his forehead. "It's 2.30 am and you're sick. You are tired."

"No, I'm not," Trip said, dangling his legs. "I don't think I can sleep now. You could read me Harry Potter again!"

"No," Archer said, ignoring Phlox' raised eyebrows. "You are going to go to bed now."

"But I don't wanna- "

"You-are-going-to-bed-now," Archer repeated, and Trip fell silent, sulking.

In the meantime, Malcolm was back on his feet again, standing next to Phlox and looking rather dazed.

"Feeling better?" Phlox asked him, and he shook his head.

"No."

Phlox looked at him, tilting his head to one side. "Still feeling bad?"

"No."

Smiling, Phlox took him by the hand and set off for the childrens' bedroom. "Well, let's get you back to bed, hm? Maybe you'll feel a little more communicative in the morning."

Archer half expected him to say "no" again, but Malcolm followed the doctor without another word, looking like a sleep-walker as he trudged over to the bedroom. As Archer gave him a pointed look, Trip slid off the biobed, slowly shuffling over to where the doctor was waiting for him.

"Well then, good night, you two," Phlox said, helped Malcolm lie down and tucked him in, then did the same thing for Trip. "Sleep well."

Archer leaned back on the biobed, closing his eyes, only just now realizing how tired he was.

Thank God they're back in their own room, he thought. Four sick children to take care of...never mind, at least I'll have my quarters to myself for the rest of the night.

Archer realized that a good night's sleep was just what he needed. His headache had gotten even worse by now, and he felt absolutely beat.

Opening his eyes, he noticed Phlox standing beside the bed. The doctor was eyeing the monitor above his head with a frown.

"What's up, doc?" he asked wearily, and Phlox raised his eyebrows at him.

"Well, Captain," he said, "it seems like I'll have the nurse's role all to myself the next few days."

"What are you talking about?" Archer asked, sitting up. This was a mistake, though; the quick movement made his head spin, momentarily blurring his vision. Squeezing his eyes shut, Archer waited for the dizzyness to pass, and heard Phlox' voice next to him.

"Take it easy, Captain. You've got quite a fever, 38,4 Â°C. Seems like you caught the kids' flu, hm?" Before Archer could protest, Phlox pushed him back down onto the biobed, picking up the hypospray again. "Just stay put, I'll give you something for the headache and-"

"No no no," Archer said and held up a hand, getting up from the biobed. "I'll just go back to my quarters and get some rest. I'm sure I'll be feeling fine in the morning."

Phlox raised a doubtful eyebrow, but made no further objections. "If you say so, Captain."

Trudging off towards the door, Archer grimaced. Now that the doctor had officially announced that he'd caught that flu, he somehow felt a lot worse than before. With a feeling of dread, he thought of what the next few days might have in store for him and sighed.

They shouldn't call it Starfleet, they should call it the Intergalactic Navy, he thought. Never Again Volunteer Yourself.


	7. Babysitter Blues 4âSweets For My Sweet

The next morning, Archer didn't feel fine at all. Opening his eyes, he blinked and pulled a face. The headache was still raging behind his forehead, and there was a vile taste in his mouth, as if something had died on his tongue not too recently. He'd just decided he'd try and go back to sleep when a voice spoke up, making him jump.

"Good morning, Captain Archer."

Archer turned his head, and his eyes widened when he saw T'Pol sitting on a chair next to the bed. He scrambled to a sitting position, squeezing his eyes shut as dizzyness washed over him once again.

"What..." He swallowed, trying to get rid of that roadkill-taste on his tongue. "What are you doing here?"

T'Pol got up from her chair, and Archer had the impression that her cheeks suddenly had an unusual green tinge to them. Picking up a tray that had been sitting on the desk, she walked over to the bed.

"I...I made you breakfast," she said, a deep green blush coloring her cheeks. "I hope you like plomeek soup?"

"Erm..." Archer took the tray from her hands, surveying its contents. There was a bowl with some kind of bright green fluid in it, a cup of very strong black coffee and a plate containing of all things pancakes with cream and peanut butter. Archer's stomach gave a small lurch. "Sure," he said quickly. "Thank you."

T'Pol shifted her feet. "I prepared it myself," she said. "I did not add ger'ak, though."

Archer slowly picked up the spoon, giving the bowl another suspicious glance. "What's ger'ak?"

"A Vulcan spice," she said. "I checked the ingredients of plomeek soup in the data base and found that on humans ger'ak has similar effects as a laxative."

"Oh." Archer carefully dipped the spoon into the liquid and a few small black crumbs came bubbling up from the bottom of the bowl. Archer's stomach did another backside-flip.

"You...you're sure it's not in there?" he asked, looking up at T'Pol. She raised an eyebrow.

"Of course, Captain Archer."

Still a little sceptical, Archer dipped the spoon into the soup again and carefully lifted it to his lips. It smelled like a mixture of lavender and sweaty socks. Closing his eyes, he put the spoon into his mouth and almost gasped. The soup was hot. Hot and spicy. Very hot and very spicy. Blinking the tears away, Archer looked back up at T'Pol, who was watching him expectantly.

"I- interesting," he managed, and T'Pol's blush deepened.

"I still have some more when you're finished with that," she said, and Archer swallowed.

"Oh...erm...thank you, but- "

"I prepared about three liters," T'Pol announced proudly. "You can eat as much as you like."

"That's really nice of you," Archer said weakly, stirring the soup again. A few red crumbs surfaced, mixing with the black ones, and Archer knew that he just couldn't eat this. All the same, he lifted another spoonful to his mouth.

"Captain Archer..." T'Pol sat back down on the edge of her chair, blinking at him with big dark eyes. "Is it true that you once freed eighty Suliban prisoners from a detention camp? Without any help from your officers? In less than one hour?"

Coughing, Archer put the spoon back down on the tray and looked at T'Pol again, who was watching him, admiration written all over her features. Both the plomeek soup and the fact that his twelve year old science officer obviously did have a crush on him made Archer feel faintly sick. Well, maybe not so faintly, after all. He swallowed.

"Erm...how do you know that?"

T'Pol blushed again. "I read all the log entries about your missions in the data base. I...I think you are a very brave man. So responsible. And so protective of your crew..."

Archer felt his ears grow hot and cleared his throat. "Umm...T'Pol...I...I'm flattered you would say so, but, you know, on all those mission I did always have a lot of help from my crew-"

"Oh no, Captain Archer, I do not think you have any reason to be so modest. I have noticed that your log entries display a certain...humble attitude, and even Surak said that being humble is a sign of greatness." T'Pol looked back at his tray, raising an eyebrow. "Do you not like the ploomek soup?"

Quickly, Archer swallowed another spoonful of the spicy liquid. "No, it's really good," he said, glad to steer the conversation away from the topic of his personal greatness. "Um...what's plomeek, anyway?"

T'Pol folded her hands as she always did when she was about to launch into a lecture. "Plomeek is a spice which is cultivated in the provinces around the Lesser Sea on Vulcan. It is very nutritious, and it has an agreeable flavor that is appreciated by most Vulcans. There are many different ways of preparing plomeek soup. I can give you the recipe if you like."

Archer nodded weakly, and, ignoring his throat and stomach which both felt as if he'd swallowed dishwasher detergent, he put another spoonful of soup into his mouth. "Thanks."

T'Pol opened her mouth, probably to recite the recipe down to every crumb of salt that needed to go into the soup, when the door swished open and Phlox came in. The doctor looked from Archer to T'Pol and raised his eyebrows.

"Now, young lady, I told you not to stay too long. Captain Archer needs to rest."

Archer's head snapped up at these words. "You...you sent her?" he asked incredulously. "Doc..."

"Captain Archer liked my plomeek soup very much," T'Pol announced proudly.

"That's really nice, T'Pol," Phlox replied, "but I do have to ask you to go down to sickbay now and look after the little ones. They're asleep, so I'm sure they won't give you any trouble."

T'Pol looked slightly disappointed but got up just the same. "Very well, Dr. Phlox. I shall notify you if there are any problems."

"You do that." Phlox smiled as he watched her leave the room wiggling her hips a little more than usual. Archer leaned back on his pillow, letting out a deep sigh.

"Doctor," he said. "Would you mind taking that...soup away."

Phlox picked up the tray, setting it back down onto Archer's desk. "Well, Captain, how are you feeling this morning?"

"You know, Doc, I think I feel really humble today," Archer said, closing his eyes. "Was that really necessary, sending her up here?"

Phlox smiled, pulling out his med scanner. "She asked me, and I think she would have been really disappointed if I hadn't allowed her to go." As he ran the scanner over Archer, his smile widened. "Ah, your temperature is almost back to normal! With a little rest you should be back on your feet in no time."

"Thank God," Archer sighed. "How are the kids?"

"Better," Phlox said brightly, tucking his scanner away. "Malcolm's temperature is back to 38,5 Â°C, and Trip had a piece of toast for breakfast this morning. They're all a little cranky, of course, but that's normal for kids who are recovering from flu."

"Really," Archer said, but all the same he felt relieved. He had been quite worried about Malcolm last night, and hearing that he was feeling better eased his mind. Sitting down on the edge of the desk, Phlox rolled up one of the pancakes and popped it into his mouth.

"You'll be glad to hear, Captain," he mumbled around the mouthful of pancake and peanut butter, "that we'll be reaching our destination in less than twenty-four hours. I checked the navigation computer this morning and found that tomorrow at 0900 hours we'll arrive at the coordinates where Mr. Q said we'll find the Lake of Learning. I do have to say that I am most interested to see what we're going to find there."

"Hopefully my crew," Archer said. "Knowing Q, though, it'll probably be a sign with "Haha, gotcha!" written on it."

Phlox raised his eyebrows. "Now let's not be cynical, Captain," he scolded. "Maybe we'll find a way out of this after all, hm?"

Archer sighed. "I do hope so."


	8. The Most Qrious Test Of His Life

"I wanna sit in the big chair, I wanna sit in the big chair, I wanna sit in the big chairâ€”"

"Alright alright!" Holding up his hands in defeat, Archer got up from the Captain's chair to make room for Travis, who immediately climbed onto the seat, a big Cheshire grin on his face.

"My dad always lets me sit in the big chair," he told Phlox who was standing next to him, laying a precautionary hand over the armrest's controls.

"That's nice, Travis," Phlox said. Hoshi was sitting on his arm again, a rather dazed expression on her face. Having only just recovered from flu, she was still quite sleepy all the time, and spent her days sitting on either Phlox' or T'Pol's arm, too tired even to cry for her mom.

Archer, too, still felt a little under the weather, but after spending a whole day in bed, sleeping, reading and enjoying the peace and quiet of his quarters, he was doing a lot better than the day before when T'Pol had brought him the plomeek soup. Malcolm and Trip seemed to be recovering nicely as well; at the moment, Trip was sitting on the floor beside the tactical station, deeply absorbed in Harry Potter and ignoring Malcolm, who was trying to get his attention by poking him in the ribs.

"That's boring, Trip," Malcolm griped. "Don't read that stupid book all the time. I'm bored!"

He landed a particularly hard poke, and Trip yelped, quickly moving away from him.

"Cut it out, Malcolm! Leave me alone."

Malcolm regarded him, a thoughtful look on his face, then poked him again. Trip squealed.

"Don't DO that! I'm ticklish!"

A evil grin spread on Malcolm's face, and he went for Trip, who squeaked and retreated behind the tactical station. Before it could escalate into one of their noisy fights, Archer intervened, taking Malcolm by the arm and pushing him down on a nearby chair.

"Now stop it," he said. "Youâ€™ve still got a fever, and horsing around like that won't help it. Besides, we're almost there."

"ETA is due in another five minutes' time, Captain Archer," T'Pol stated gravely, looking up from the science station. After Archer had shown her how to work the console's controls, she'd taken it upon herself to announce their ETA every five minutes, using the same dignified tone of voice that was so typical of her adult self.

Giving Malcolm a padd he could occupy himself with, Archer walked back over to where Phlox was standing, resting his arms on the backrest of his chair.

"You know, doc, somehow I feel ridiculous doing this." Phlox raised his eyebrows.

"Why would that be, Captain?"

Archer sighed. "All that Lake of Learning, Water of Wisdom business...Iâ€™ve got a feeling that it's just another one of Q's stupid jokes. I mean, do you really think he'll bring the crew back just because we go to some mysterious lake and have a drink of water? What's the point?"

Phlox shifted Hoshi on his arm. "Maybe he was talking in metaphors."

Heaving a deep sigh Archer turned to the science station. "I really don't know what to think anymore."

T'Pol raised her head. "Captain Archer, we are there."

Archer looked at the main screen, and the first thing that came to his mind was that T'Pol must have made a mistake. There was indeed some kind of solar system on the screen; one small, weakly glowing sun, orbited by two tiny grey planets that had a strangely wrinkled look to them. Archer could tell without consulting the scanners that on these two dried-up lemons there was not a single drop of water to be found, and certainly no Lake of Learning.

"How interesting," he heard Phlox say, and shot him a deadly glare.

"This is not interesting anymore, doctor," Archer said through gritted teeth. "This is outrageous! Move aside," he barked at T'Pol, who quickly got out of the science station's chair. Archer initiated a scan of the planets' surfaces, gripping the edge of the console so hard his knuckles turned white with the effort. When the results appeared on the display, Archer felt white-hot fury rise within him. Indeed; there was not a single water molecule to be found in this system. Slowly rising from his seat, Archer walked over to the Captain's chair and stood right in the middle of the bridge.

"Q!" he shouted, not caring if he was making a fool of himself. "Q! If you're out there and if you can hear me, you'd better get yourself over here and tell me what the hell is going on!"

Nothing happened, though. Phlox and the children had fallen silent, staring at him with wide eyes, but Archer ignored them, taking another step towards the main screen.

"You think this is funny?" he yelled, letting out all the frustration he'd felt during the last week. "You think I'm going play your silly games forever? WELL THERE YOU ARE MISTAKEN! DAMMIT Q! EITHER YOU GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE IN THE NEXT FIVE SECONDS OR I'LL-"

"Oh, Jonny!" he heard a reproachful voice behind his back and whirled around. Q was leaning against the turbolift doors, again wearing a Starfleet uniform and a smug smile on his face. "Swearing in front of the kids! That's not what I'd expect of a honorable person, humble and full of greatness like you..."

Archer didn't know whether to feel relieved or annoyed at Q's sudden appearance, but he did know that he was still furious as hell.

"Now where is that Lake of Learning of yours?" he said without a word of greeting. "And don't go telling me it doesn't exist because then I'm going to-"

"Jooooonnyyy," Q sang, wiggling his eyebrows and fluttering his eyelids. "You're forgetting: I'm aaalmiiiightyyyy!"

Before Archer could say a word, Trip piped up. "Oh, you were that almighty guy who magicked all of us to the Mount Everest! That was really cool! By the way, wouldcha mind-"

"Shut up, Trip!" Archer quickly cut him off before he could give Q any ideas. "Q...listen. This has been going on for a whole week and I can tell you, I'm damned tired of the whole business. Now give me back my crew and get the-"

"Now, Jonny!" Q put his hands on his hips, an expression of mock outrage on his face. "No swearing! It does seem to me like you haven't learned anything from this little experiment of mine! But we'll see about that, of course."

"What theâ€“what are you talking about, Q?"

Q clasped his hands behind his back, walking down the steps towards the Captain's chair.

"Well, Jonny, you know, while you were busy babysitting these five little darling sweetie-pies I did have a lot of time to think, and finally I came up with something you're really going to like!"

Archer eyed him suspiciously. "You said that before."

"I know." Q smiled innocently. "And wasn't I right?"

Archer took a deep breath. "Not at all."

Q raised an eyebrow. "But you're forgetting something, Jonny. I'm always right. After all, I'm...what am I?"

Travis head peeked out from behind the backrest of the Captain's chair. "You're almighty!" he said proudly. "That means you can do whatever you like."

Q smiled, obviously pleased. "Excellent, Travis my boy! You're a quick study, aren't you? More than can be said of your captain." He turned back to Archer. "No, seriously Jonny, I want you to learn something from this, so I prepared a little surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Archer asked, getting the distinct feeling that he was not going to like this. "What kind of surprise?"

Q smiled nastily. "Well, Jonny...you passed the quest, now you take the test! Let's go!"

He snapped his fingers.

###

Archer found himself in what was obviously some kind of class room, sitting behind a desk in the second row. There was a blackboard up front, as well as a teacher's desk, complete with a small vase with a few dried-up cornflowers in it. On the walls there were maps and several coloured kids' drawings of all kinds of space monsters, all of them done in a bright technicolor crayon style. Two big windows were looking out over a schoolyard with several swings and see-saws, but there were no kids to be seen. Before Archer had the chance to get up, the door flew open and Q strode in. He was wearing a worn-out brown jacket, a wrinkled pale blue shirt and black corduroy trousers that ended just above his ankles, revealing his egg-yolk-colored socks and filthy old sneakers. All in all, he looked just like Archer's tenth grade History teacher. Plonking his old leather briefcase on the teacher's desk, he turned to Archer and gave him a curt smile. "Good morning, class."

"What the hell is going on here?" Archer said, getting to his feet, but Q only raised his eyebrows at him.

"No swearing in class! And sit down, Jonny!"

Archer stepped out from behind the desk, clenching his hands to fists. "Q..." he began, but Q only put his hands on his hips.

"Do what you're told, Jonny! Sit back down! I won't tolerate this kind of behaviour in class!"

Archer opened his mouth to say something else, but then he saw the dangerous glint in Q's eyes and reluctantly sat back down on his chair.

"Q," he said, "don't you think this is rather ridiculous-"

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Jonny!" Q said, producing an extendable pointer from his pocket. "Now, after a whole week of preparation we've all come here today to take and hopefully pass the Babysitter Test. Q's Babysitter Test."

"What?" Archer jumped up.

"No talking in class," Q said reproachfully. "And sit back down, Jonny! I won't tell you again."

Archer took a deep breath, sitting back down on his chair. Okay, he thought, this might be ridiculous, but I can just as well play along. Sooner or later he will get tired of it anyway.

Q tapped his pointer against the blackboard and white letters began to form on the black surface.

"Babysitter Testâ€“The Rules"

Archer buried his face in his hands. Q cleared his throat.

"Pay attention, Jonny! Now let me explain the rules to you. They're really simple, even you should be able to understand them. To pass the test, you need to answer fifteen questions and you may not get more than one wrong. If you successfully pass the test, you will have earned the Babysitter Degree and I will be convinced that you've learned something from my little experiment, after all. So, if you pass the test, I will give you what you so dearly requested from me: Your crew and your senior officers in their normal state of health and mind!"

Archer stared at him. "And what if not?"

Q tilted his head to one side. "Now don't be such a pessimist, Jonny! I'm sure you will pass the test. It's not that hard."

Archer was silent for a moment, then nodded, coming to a decision. "Alright, Q. This is stupid, ridiculous and absolutely pointless, but if that's what it takes, then alright. Let's start with that test."

"That's the spirit, Jonny!" Again, Q tapped his pointer against the board and new words formed on it, replacing the old ones.

"Question Number One," Q recited.

"What do you do when a little girl says to you: 'I want my mom'?

a You tell her she can't have her mom and let her scream her head off

b You tell her she can't have her mom and when she keeps screaming, you put a band aid over her mouth

c You say: 'Do you want me to show you the cute pink fluffy teddy bear every babysitter should always have handy?'

d You break into noisy sobs and scream: 'Me too!'

Now, Jonny, tell me, what shall it be: a, b, c or d?"

Archer blinked a few times. "This...this isn't a real test," he said then. "These are jokes, not questions."

"Now that was quick thinking, Jonny!" Q grinned. "Tell me, a, b, c or d?"

Reading through the answers again, Archer remembered the time when Phlox and he had first found the children and Hoshi had asked him that very question.

"You have to distract her," he said. "I'll take...c."

Q clapped his hands in delight. "That's right, Jonny! You're doing great so far! Let's proceed to the next question." Again he tapped the blackboard.

"What do you do when you hear: 'Yay, look at this! Let's do carrot juice again!'

a You initiate self-destruction

b When that happens, then it's too late already

c You don't bother to look, but call your insurance agent immediately

d You suffer a cardiac arrest and die

Jonny?"

Archer shrugged. "I'd say b."

"Wonderful!" Q exclaimed. "Next question:

What do you do when a little boy tells you: 'Look, I found some icecream!'

a You say: 'Cool, lemme have some too!'

b You snatch it from his hand and eat it all yourself

c You go and look where he got the icecream from, then decide on whether he can have it

d You grab the icecream bowl, throw it into the waste recycler and scream: 'It's poisoned! I know it's poisoned!'"

Archer shook his head. "C, of course."

"And of course you're right, Jonny. Next one:

Little boys like to wear:

a Grey boring shirts

b Ugly garish shirts

c Starfleet uniforms

d I don't care what they're wearing, I just want them to leave me alone!"

Archer certainly knew the answer to this one. "Well, b," he said and Q nodded, tapping the blackboard again.

"If you want a kid to tell you what they did yesterday, you ask:

a 'What did you do yesterday?'

b 'If you don't mind my asking, then I would be delighted to be informed about your activities of the previous day.'

c _crouches down in front of the kid, takes them by the shoulders, looks them straight in the eyes_ 'Listen. I want to ask you a question and I need you to give me an answer. Whatâ€“didâ€“youâ€“doâ€“yesterday?' (repeat if necessary)

d Are you crazy? If I ask that, then the kid will make the Great Big Foot come and stomp me! Aaaaaahhh! I'm afraid of the Great Big Foot! _runs off screaming_

Archer frowned. "Whatâ€™s with the d answers?" he asked, but Q only shrugged.

"You can choose these too, if you want to. It has all happened before."

Archer didn't even try to think about what Q might be implying and considered for a moment. "I'll take a," he said then and jumped as Q let out a scream.

"No!! Jonny! You're slipping! Well, maybe you need a little more practical experience before you can tackle this one."

Q snapped his fingers and the class room disappeared to be replaced by a children's bedroom with all kinds of toys lying around on the floor. In the middle of the whole mess sat little Hoshi, playing with a stuffed animal. She was taking no notice of Archer at all. Sighing, Archer took a step towards her. He knew what he had to do now.

"Hello Hoshi," he said, and the girl raised her head, smiling at him. "Hi."

He sat down next to her on the floor. "Hoshi, what did you do yesterday?"

Hoshi blinked up at him, showing him the stuffed animal. "Do you like my horsey?"

The instant the words had left her mouth, Archer knew he should have chosen answer c. Taking the stuffed animal from her hand, he examined it thoroughly and smiled at her.

"It's very nice, Hoshi. Now, I want to ask you a question. Listen real close and then give me an answer: What did you do yesterday?"

She only stared at him. "My horsey's name is Jenny."

Archer sighed. "That's very nice, Hoshi. But now I really need to know: What did you do yesterday? You know, the day before today?"

Hoshi blinked. "Today...today I had eggs for breakfast."

Archer briefly closed his eyes, feeling something like despair rise within him. "Yes, Hoshi. But I really need to know what you did the day before. What did you do before you...went to bed yesterday?"

Hoshi reached out and took the stuffed animal back. "Yesterday before I went to bed I played with my horsey."

Archer heard a popping sound and found himself back in the class room. Q was sitting at the teacher's desk, looking through a stack of notebooks. When he noticed that Archer had returned to his desk, he got up again.

"Ahh, Jonny! Well, you didn't take so long after all! Now what will it be: a, b, c, or d? One more chance, Jonny!"

Archer sighed. "C, of course."

"Wonderful!" Q clapped his hands. "But remember, you mustn't get another one wrong, or else..."

"Or else what?" Archer asked, eyeing him suspiciously. An evil grin spread on Q's face.

"Well, Jonny, in that case I suggest you take a martial arts crash course since you're going to have to tell Mrs. Tucker that she's going to get nine-year-old Trip back."

Archer's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't," he said, and Q's smile widened.

"Better not find out, hm?" he said, sounding suspiciously like Dr. Phlox. Archer swallowed.

"Well, let's continue with the test," he said, awaiting the next question rather nervously.

"When kids are fighting about what they'd like for supper, what do you suggest?

a Something called 'moo-goo-gal-pan'

b Anything that's easy to cookâ€“with ketchup!

c Icecream

d No! No! I told you! It's poisoned! It's poisoned! We're all gonna DIE!"

"B," Archer said, feeling immensely relieved when he saw Q nod.

"That's right, Jonny my boy. And the next one:

Should you pay it attention when a little boy says: 'I feel kind of sick!'

a Oohhh yes!

b No, kids are always complaining about all kinds of things; just tell him to shut up.

c Naaw, don't worry, everything will work out alright _lights his joint and takes a few puffs_ Wow, I like these colours!

d Aaaahhhh, he was poisoned! He's gonna die, he's gonna die!"

Remembering Malcolm and the spaghetti, Archer raised an eyebrow. "I'd say a," he said, and Q tapped the blackboard again.

"Kids will probably best fall asleep when you put them in:

a A dark dungeon with rats and snakes

b A small bedroom with at least three other kids and a nightlight

c All alone in a huge gym with a bed standing smack in the middle

d Back into their coffins where they came from

"Who came up with all these questions?" Archer asked, shaking his head.

"They were compiled by a committee of experienced babysitters," Q said pleasantly, and Archer wisely decided not to ask any further.

"Anyway, it's b. Next question."

"If you offer a kid the following books, which one will they choose?

a 'Watching Your Cactus Grow'

b 'The Big Kablooie or The Day Smurf City Exploded'

c 'Little Jane's Boring Visit At Her Grandmother's'

d This is a trick question, isn't it?"

Archer blinked a few times. "Well...b?" he said, and Q smiled.

"You're right. When I was a little Q, my dad used to read me that book every night. It's aboutâ€“"

Archer held up a hand. "I can imagine. Next question, okay?"

"Okay okay." Q tapped the blackboard again.

"Two kids are about to kill each other about a matter you don't understand. What do you do?

a You wait for one of them to win, then clean up the blood and get rid of the bodies

b You separate them and try to settle the matter peacefully

c You're glad they're having so much fun and go watch MacGyver

d Kill? KILL? The Great Big Foot is gonna kill me! _runs off screaming_ "

Archer shook his head a little. "The answer is b," he said.

"Little girls are afraid of:

a Big slimy green monsters

b A global war

c You (if not, try harder)

d Miniature zombies with sharp teeth and big claws that come out at night and eat babysitters...well, at least that's what I'm afraid of.

For a moment Archer was tempted to say d, but of course resisted the urge. "A," he said instead, and Q nodded.

"You catch two little boys somewhere they shouldn't be, playing with dangerous objects they shouldn't be playing with. What do you do?

a You lose it completely and yell at them until they're crying

b Well, you mentioned those dungeons with rats and snakes before...

c First, you take away the dangerous objects. Next, you talk to them and ask them why they did this. Last but not least, you explain to them why they must never do this again (repeat if results are not good)

d Wait! Wait a minute! Define 'dangerous objects'! And while you're at it, are we talking about the normal universe or the universe I'm in? Hey! You're vanishing!

Archer examined his hands a little sheepishly.

"Well, Jonny?" Q asked, crossing his arms. "I'm curious; have you learned your lesson?"

Archer had. "C," he said, and Q smiled.

"Now, Jonny, the next question is a really evil one, only for you:

How do you punish children?

a Not at all; too much trouble

b Find something educationally valuable for them to do that makes them see that what they did was wrong

c Consult 'Shut Up Or I'll Stomp Youâ€“Stuart Reed's Guide To Raising Children' and follow the instructions

d Punish? Punish? You want to punish me? I didn't do anything!"

Archer glared at Q. "This is not funny," he said. "This is not funny at all. I only talked to Mr. Reed senior once, but I'm sure he wouldn't-"

"Aww, Jonny, can't you ever take a joke?" Q sighed. "Besides, I just can't stand that guy. He reminds me of that mean old uncle I have. He never gave me chocolate chip cookies..."

Archer buried his face in his hands. "Your answer is b. Let's get on with that test."

"You're not very interested in other people's family history, are you?" Q said a little testily. "Well, next question:

If kids get unusually cranky, they're probably...

a Ready to be cooked

b Coming down with something

c Entering the early stages of a premature puberty

d Possessed by an evil demon! Everybody's possessed by evil demons except me!"

Archer cleared his throat. "Ehem...b again?"

"You're such a clever boy, Jonny!" Q tapped the blackboard again. "Next questionâ€“the last one:

A twelve-year-old Vulcan brings you plomeek soup for breakfast. What is to be inferred?"

a She might have a crush on you

b Chef's sick

c Wait! Wait a sec! Whatcha talkin' about, 'inferred'? Oh, Ah'll look it up, 's right next to 'intransigent' in the dictionary!

D This is just another evil scheme to poison me! I'm fed up with people trying to poison me! Damn sneaky Vulcan bastard! _jumps headfirst out of window and dies"_

Archer glared at Q again. "He'd know what it means!"

Q wiggled his eyebrows. "But you knew who I was talking about, didn't you? Now, what shall it be: a, b-"

"A," Archer said through gritted teeth. "Now-are we finished?"

"Not yet!" Q smiled. "Not yet, Jonny! You did so well, I'll just have to ask you this last question."

Archer opened his mouth to protest, but Q raised a placating hand. "It's easy, Jonny. Now listen and tell me the answer:

Q is

a mental

b annoying the hell outta me

c the love of my life

d AAAAAALLLMIIIIIGHTYYYYYYYYY!!!"

Archer had a hard time to keep himself from yelling "A! A! A!". Reading through the answers once again, he considered. B was certainly the right answer, but somehow he doubted Q wanted to hear that. And c was out of the question, anyway.

"D," he said, and Q spread his arms, throwing away the pointer that left a streak of sparkling coloured stars in the air.

"Yes! Jonny! You did it! I knew you would! I can't wait to tell Jean-Luc about this!"

Archer slumped back in his chair, actually feeling a smile of relief spreading on his face. He regarded Q with a thoughtful look.

"You know, I'm curious," he said. "Who's that Jean-Luc you're talking about all the time?"

Q smiled at him. "You wouldn't want to know."

"Maybe I wouldn't." Archer got up. "Now, will you give me back my crew and-"

"You're forgetting about the Water of Wisdom, Jonny," Q said, and Archer took a deep breath.

"Q-"

"Now now, Jonny," Q said. "Don't get your blood pressure up. You passed the quest, you passed the test, now you're the best! And the best babysitter gets a babysitter degree, of course."

"Alright," Archer sighed. "But hurry up."

"And then you get to rest," Q added as if he hadn't heard him, and Archer felt his blood pressure rising indeed.

"Will you stop talking in rhymes," he snapped and Q pouted.

"You're just as much of a party pooper as Jean-Luc and Kathy. Well, then let's proceed to the ceremony."

He snapped his fingers and suddenly Archer found himself wearing a graduate's black gown and a matching hat. He raised his head, staring at Q who was holding some kind of parchment in one hand and of all things a glass of water in the other.

"What-", he began, but Q cut him off, taking a deep breath as if preparing to launch into a speech.

"Dear Mr. Jonathan Archer! I am delighted to offer my congratulations on your successful completion of Q's Babysitter Training! I am sure you learned a great deal about your officers, your doctor, and especially about yourself-"

Archer groaned. "Yes," he said, holding out a hand. "Can I please have that degree now?"

Q raised a hand. "Now don't be so impatient, Jonny," he said, quickly snatching the degree out of Archer's reach. "I haven't finished my speech yet." He cleared his throat, a nostalgic expression appearing on his face. "When I was a young Q, freshly graduated from Babysitter Academy and eager to-"

"STOP IT!" Archer yelled. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH! I JUST WANT MY CREW BACK!"

Q took a step backwards, an indignant expression on his face. "Now now, Jonny! We're not getting nervous, are we? Alas, you shall have your crew; but first..."

With a flourish, he offered Archer the parchment and the Captain snatched it out of his hand. He took a quick look around, but nothing happened.

"What now?" he asked, turning back to Q who was holding out the glass of water at him. "Now you are ready to drink the Water of Wisdom," he said grandly, and Archer took the glass from his hand, examining it suspiciously.

"You...you want me to drink that?" he asked and Q nodded.

"Yes, Jonny. I know it's hard to believe, but when I hand you a glass of water and tell you to drink the Water of Wisdom, I might just be implying that I want you to drink it."

Archer glared at him, then raised the glass to his lips. Before he could take a sip, though, Q opened his mouth once again.

"Well, Jonny, I just wanted to say, it has been a pleasure meeting you and your marvelous crew! I liked you so much, I might just be coming back one day!"

Archer lowered the glass, staring at Q in dismay. "You won't, will you?"

Q waved his hand. "Drink the water, Jonny."

Archer gave him a last desperate look, then raised the glass back to his lips and emptied it in one long swig. He heard a popping sound and found himself...


	9. Midnight Calls

...in his bed. Sitting up, Archer blinked and looked around. He was back in his quarters, wearing his pajamas, his covers crumpled as if he'd just woken up from sleep. The lights were dimmed, and as he turned his head, he saw Porthos lying on his accustomed sleeping place next to the wall. It seemed to be the middle of the night.

A quick glance at his chronometer confirmed his guess. It was indeed the middle of the night, exactly 0000 hours. Shaking his head, Archer tried to clear his thoughts. Just a second before he'd been in that classroom, taking the Babysitter Degree from Q's hand, and nowâ€“

It was a dream, Archer realized. O my God, it was all a dream. One crazy freaking dream.

Archer slumped back on his pillow. It had been one hell of a realistic dream, though. He could remember every detail; the diplomatic mission, how he and Phlox had come back to Enterprise to find all senior officers transformed into kids, all the crazy things that had happened afterwards...and the Babysitter Test, of course. Uttering a shaky laugh, Archer wiped the sweat off his forehead, then rolled out of bed. He knew that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now. For a moment Archer sat on the edge of his bed, considering what to do. He noticed that his hands were still trembling a little, and decided that maybe it would be best to catch up on some of his paper work, good old boring paper work to get himself sleepy and tired again. Walking over to his desk, Archer sat down in his chairâ€“and stopped in his tracks. There was a parchment lying on the desk blotter, a yellow piece of parchment looking just like...

No, Archer thought. No, it can't be. It was a dream...wasn't it?

Picking up the parchment, he read the headline and felt his stomach do a backside-flip.

Q's BABYSITTER DEGREEâ€“earned after successfully passing Q's Babysitter Test

This degree allows Jonathan Archer, Captain, toâ€“

Dropping the sheet as if it had suddenly caught fire, Archer scrambled to his feet and backed away towards his bed. His knees gave way and he plopped down onto the mattress, staring at the yellow rectangular piece of paper lying on the floor. Was...was this some kind of stupid practical joke? But no, this wasn't possible, unless he'd developed a schizophrenic neurosis and his alter ego was playing pranks on him, and Archer sincerely hoped that this was not the case.

So the only other explanation left was that...it had been real. He had met Q, he had spent a week with five of his senior officers who'd been transformed into children and he had taken the Babysitter Test. And he had passed it. Or...had he? Quickly, Archer got up again, reaching for the comm.

"Archer to Commander Tucker."

First there was only silence, and Archer felt his heart skip a beat. "Archer to Commander Tucker! Trip, respond!"

There was another short pause, then he heard the channel open and Trip's sleepy voice came from the speaker.

"Whassup?"

Archer bit his lip. Trip's voice had sounded indeed like his normal adult voice...but better be safe than sorry.

"Trip," he said, "I need to ask you a strange question. Are you nine years old?"

This time the pause that followed was a little longer.

"What?"

Archer cleared his throat. "Are you nine years old?"

"Jon! It's the middle of the night! Whaddaya want?!"

Archer briefly closed his eyes. "So you're not nine years old?"

Trip groaned. "No, I'm not nine years old. Can I go back to bed now?"

"No, wait," Archer interrupted quickly. "Erm...Trip...have you seen Malcolm?"

"Yes, course I saw him. We had a briefin' today, remember?"

"And...and he wasn't nine years old, either?"

There was a muffled thump as if Trip had banged his head against the wall next to the comm.

"What's wrong with you, Jon? It's the friggin' middle of the night!"

"Sorry, Trip. Just one last question: When you were in the messhall today...were there any people? Beside the senior officers?"

"Yes, Jon," Trip sighed. "There were people. The crew, y'know? There's a crew on this ship, and you're their Cap'n. Now get back to bed and lemme sleep."

"Alright, thanks, Trip. I have to tell you something really strange in the morning."

"Yes," Trip said. "In the mornin'. G'night, Jon."

"Night, Trip."

Archer cut the connection, feeling plain, pure relief wash over him. Trip was probably thinking that he'd completely lost it, but Archer could still straighten that out in the morning. At the moment he was content with the knowledge that his crew was back and his senior officers were indeed not kids anymore. Letting out a deep sigh, Archer leaned against the wall for a second, then bent down and picked up the parchment. Reading through it, he felt a small grin forming on his lips despite himself. Rolling it up, he placed it in the bottom drawer of his desk. The one with the lock. He straightened up again, and all but collapsed on his bed, closing his eyes.

Now that was a crazy story if there ever was one, he thought, rolling onto his side. But at least it's over now.

###

Picard sat on the left warp nacelle of the Enterprise and stared at the stars flying past. Again.

"Good evening, Jean-Luc," he heard a voice behind his back and whirled around.

"Q! It's been only a week! You promised me you'd leave us alone!"

Q crossed his legs, looking him up and down. "Nice pajamas," he said. "I'd have put you down for a checkers and long-sleeve man, though. But I like that sports-wear look, too."

Picard took a deep breath, folding his hands. "Q," he said. "It's the middle of the night, and, unlike certain other people I've been working hard all day long. So if you don't mind, I'd really like to just go back to bed and go to sleep again. Alright?"

Q heaved a sigh. "You captains are all alike. But you're still my favorite! I really like Jonny, but..."

"Who's Jonny?" Picard asked suspiciously. Q smiled.

"Oh, you would like him; you have a lot in common. But I think he'll be quite busy restoring his sanity for the next few weeks."

Q chuckled nastily, and Picard felt a shiver run down his spine at the evil sound. But however sorry he might be feeling for that unlucky Jonny, he was not going to ask Q what he'd done to him.

"Listen, Q," he said instead, "you promised me a break. And it's been only a week. Don't you think you could stay away for just the tiniest bit longer?"

Q pulled a sulking face, half-turning away from Picard. "You know, it's making me so sad that nobody likes having me around. What's your problem? I'm fun, after all. Brightening up your dull lives..."

"I don't want my dull life brightened up!" Picard hissed through clenched teeth. "I just want to go back to bed! And I don't want to see your face for the next two months! At least!"

"Now you just start talking about cucumbers, and I'm going to cry," Q said in a whining tone of voice. Picard blinked.

"Cucumbers?"

"Never mind," Q said with the air of a martyr. "You know, but I shouldn't be complaining. I had so much fun these last seven days..." He eyed Picard shrewdly, and Picard didn't like the look on his face at all.

"What is it?" he asked carefully, and Q tilted his head to one side.

"You know, I've been wondering, Jean-Luc..."

A sense of foreboding took hold of Picard, but he knew he couldn't do anything to prevent what was about to come.

"What have you been wondering, Q?" he asked weakly, and Q smiled, raising a hand.

"You know, as much as I like your current appearance, I really would like to know how you looked with hair on that head."

And once again, Captain Jean-Luc Picard found himself confirmed in his theory that most trouble in his life began with the sound of a loud "SNAP".


	10. Missing Scene from Chapter 6; Babysitter Blues 3; by Exploded Pen

With Trip and Malcolm now on their way to the Captains quarters, Travis seemed to be channeling their spirit and was racing round sickbay giggling madly.

"You know Malcolm said there were monsters in the room?" Travis asked grinning.

Hoshi trembled and nodded.

"He forgot to mention the ROBOTS!" Travis exclaimed gleefully. "'n' they only come out when your asleep and they eat your brain!"

"Young man, that is enough!" Phlox exclaimed. "Calm down or you'll be spending ten minutes on the naughty biobed!"

"Naughty biobed?" Travis asked, coming to a standstill.

Phlox nodded importantly.

"There aren't really robots, are there?" Hoshi asked tugging on Phlox's sleeve.

"No there are no robots, just like there aren't any monsters," Phlox assured her. "Malcolm and Travis were just telling porky pies."

Hoshi stuck her bottom lip out and went to join Travis in the bathroom. Minutes later Phlox took them both off to bed.

"Don't worry there are no monsters," he assured Hoshi who looked like she was about to start whining again. As he went out the room he thought he could hear hushed whispers, but as he neared the room door again they both fell silent.

In the darkness Hoshi trembled slightly.

"G'night Hosh," said Travis sleepily.

"G'night Travis," she replied. Then remembering something her mum used to say she added: "Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs BITE!"

Travis sat straight up.

"Bed bugs?" he whimpered.

"Don't worry, they only get boys," said Hoshi grinning.

"PHLOX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Travis yelled shooting up out of bed.


	11. Missing Scene: The Babysitter Bluesâlyrics! by csifan2000

_This is a little song I thought up. The characters of Star Trek belong to Roddenberry & company. The chorus is based on the song, "It's My Party" by Wiener, Gold, Gluck Jr. No rights implied. All words are my own, based on the fanfiction of Sita/T'eyla, " The Q Experience"_

* * *

I'm the Sitter  
It all started one day, when Q wanted to play  
He took Jean-Luc outside, but Jean-Luc said,  
"Please, go away."  
Q acquiesced and sent Jean-Luc back to his ship  
And then thought of someone, who would give him a trip  
So, into the past, Q very quickly flew  
What awaited poor Archer, nobody knew  
Archer came back to his ship, with the good Doc in tow  
How his senior officers became children,  
He didn't know

CHORUS:

I'm the sitter and I'll cry if I want to  
Cry if I want to, cry if I want to  
You would cry too, if Q did this to you

Now Trip and Malcolm were sent on a mission to explore  
And ended up mixing several drinks on the floor  
When Archer found them, oh, what a mess  
Phlox couldn't help grinning to see them confess  
So, off to Sickbay they all were sent  
But Jon couldn't find where the rest of his crew went

CHORUS

The third chapter is where dear Q does appear  
And Jon has to hold in what feels like fear  
Q is sending him on a mission  
Where he'll need all his wits  
To save his crew, Archer must find  
The Water of Wisdom and drink of it  
So, off through the skies, Archer does fly  
While Trip and Malcolm keep getting into fights  
At nighttime, poor Archer doesn't get any sleep  
'Cause Malcolm and Trip keep making a peep

CHORUS

So, Malcolm and Trip sneak off into the night  
To the Armoury, they go, to pretend they can fight  
When Archer arrives there, he is spitting mad  
For playing with phasers, the boys knew they were bad  
When Phlox did arrive, Hoshi and Travis were crying  
He saw that Archer's nerves, the kids, they were trying  
So, the Doctor's prescription was to send him to bed  
Poor Jon was asleep before his head hit the bed

CHORUS

The next day refreshed and hoping he'd be there soon  
Archer did discover, that for he, T'Pol mooned  
Just when Jon didn't know what to do  
Trip and Malcolm came down with the flu

CHORUS

Malcolm awakes Archer in the middle of sleep, a.m. 2  
Trying to get to Sickbay, so Phlox will help with his flu  
Archer drags Trip down the hall with him too  
'Cause Travis and Hoshi both have the flu

After getting the kids off into their beds,  
"I'll play nurse for the next few days," Phlox said  
Laying on the biobed, Archer wearily asks, "Why?"  
Which wasn't a smart move, 'cause he felt liked he died

Phlox said, "My dear Captain, the flu you did caught."  
So, off Archer trudged, his bed he did sought  
Lying in bed, he thought with a sigh,  
Instead of Starfleet, he was in the Intergalactic N.A.V.Y.

CHORUS

The next morning, Jon awoke to T'Pol staring at him  
The breakfast she made, to not eat would be a sin  
He quietly gasped and choked as T'Pol stood nearby  
The only thought in Jon's head was, "Just please let me die!"

CHORUS

The time of Jon's journey was coming to an end  
The children were back to normal, all on the mend  
T'Pol's soup had cure Archer of his flu  
The stuff was so lethal and toxic, too

They arrived at the planet that Q directed them to  
But there was no water, not even to fill a child's shoe  
Poor Jon was so frazzled he didn't know what to say  
He had to be tested so, he reluctantly played

With Q, you never know what might be up his sleeve  
The questions he asked, to Jon were his pet peeve  
A lesson he learned, a diploma he earned  
Beware of bored aliens  
Whose name is Q

CHORUS

I'm the Captain and I'm going crazy,  
Going crazy, going crazy  
Maybe Q should take a turn too.

_Lyrics by: Julia Gardner_


	12. Missing Scene from Chapter 2 by Max MacGyver

"Hey, look! Chocolate bars!" Trip smacked his lips.

"I found marshmallows!" Malcolm hollered, then he paused, "You don't suppose..."

Trip looked over at him, comprehension dawning as the implication set in. "I saw some graham crackers earlier, but I left 'em 'cause they're kinda blah by themselves..."

Malcolm's eyes lit up, and both boys yelled "S'MORES!!" as Trip scrambled for the cabinet where he saw the grahams. "But how'r we gonna marsh the marshmallows? I don't see a camp-far or any sticks to put 'em on anywheres about here, do you?"

Malcolm snorted, "You don't 'marsh' the marshmallows, dummy! The people who made them already marshed them at the factory. We just need to get them hot so they'll melt the chocolate."

"Well, okay, mebbe you're right, but I still don't see how...unless we use the stove..."

"Are you nuts? We'd get burnt or start a bloody fire and where would you run on a space ship if it was on fire!" Malcolm interrupted in a high-pitched voice.

"All right, all right, keep yer hair on. What about the microwave? If we just hafta get 'em hot, like you said, that should do it. And if they ain't hot enough, we'll just stick the chocolate in fer a bit, too," Trip said with a smug look on his face. It would work, he knew it would.

Skeptically, Malcolm eyed Trip, who was still clutching the bag of marshmallows to his chest in one hand while holding the box of graham crackers in the other. If he didn't agree, he wouldn't get any s'mores - Trip had more ingredients than he did, so that meant he had the majority. At least, that's what his dad had told him and it agreed with what happened in Monopoly. If you had only one of the red ones and somebody else had the other two, odds are you would lose yours in any trading that happened. 'I wonder if Trip knows how to play Monopoly?' Malcolm thought briefly. He dragged his thoughts back to the marshmallows, "All right then, get on with it."

Both boys trooped over to the microwave and Trip handed the grahams to Malcolm. "You start openin' these while I put some marshmallows in." Malcolm did as he was told, opening one of the graham cracker packages and lining up the squares on a nearby table. Afterwards, he placed squares of chocolate on top. Meanwhile, Trip had put a handful of marshmallows in the microwave and was studying the control pad. Finally he pushed a few buttons and when the light came on inside and the machine started humming, he nodded in satisfaction and went over to see how Malcolm was doing. He was just beginning to lay a second cracker next to each one ready to be used as a lid, and Trip took some from the package and helped him finish. Then they went back to check on the microwave.

"Bloody hell!" Malcolm yelped when he looked in, jumping back a few feet.

"What?" Trip asked in irritation, as he bent to take a peek for himself. "Crap!" he exclaimed, skipping back a few paces just as Malcolm had.

"They're... they're... oh my goodness," Malcolm was feeling a little scared.

"Lookit 'em. They're poofin'. They look like... like..." Trip swallowed nervously, "They're as big as baseballs. What should we do?"

"What are you asking me for? This was your bright idea!" Malcolm retorted.

"Maybe we should turn it off..." Trip trailed off nervously, eying the marshmallows, which were beginning to press against the glass.

"You turn it off. I'm not getting near it."

Trip looked around in panic, "I ain't touchin' it either!" He spied the long-handled serving spoon that he'd found and tried to use earlier to scoot the bowl pasta close enough to reach. It didn't work too well, considering the pasta was now on the floor, but maybe the spoon could be put to another use. He ran over and grabbed in and ran back to the microwave. The marshmallows now filled the entire chamber and were all smooshed together into one giant poofball of white. He reached out carefully, the spoon shaking in his trembling hand, aiming for the "stop" button. Just as he touched it...

B A N G ! !

Both boys flung themselves back in fear and surprise and slammed into a table. They found themselves sitting on their butts on the floor, arms and legs splayed, their eyes big as saucers, and their mouths hanging open in shock while multi-colored Jello cubes cascaded from the table above onto their heads, bounced into their laps and jiggled across the floor. For a few silent moments they both stared at the microwave with identical stunned expressions.

"It exploded," Malcolm said quietly.

"Yeah," Trip agreed, "it did."

Then they looked at each other and grinned.

"Ka-blooey!" Trip said.

"Ker-pow!" Malcolm replied.

"That was cool! Let's check it out," Trip had recovered from the blast and was trying to climb to his feet but was having a bit of trouble with the Jello cubes. He ended up on his posterior again.

Malcolm giggled, "Crawl over here first, then stand up." He had moved to the side before using the table as leverage to get up without being hampered by the Jello all over the floor in front of them. Trip followed instructions and joined him in an upright position. They carefully made their way through the Jello towards the microwave. Since Trip had successfully turned it off just as the explosion occurred, the light was out and it was dark inside. He used the spoon and gingerly pressed the button to open the door.

It swung open slowly, stretching gooey strands across the widening space between the glass and the interior, which was filled with a gradually settling white mass.

"Look. It's sinkin'," Trip whispered in awe. He reached in gently with the spoon and scooped up a bit of the white fluff. After examining it carefully, he tested it with his finger. "Ow! It's hot!"

Malcolm rolled his eyes, "Well, duh! You just cooked it until it exploded, what did you expect, frozen marshmallows?"

But having instinctively stuck his burnt finger in his mouth, Trip pulled it out with a pop and just grinned, "Nope. We got ourselves some marshmallow creme, Malcolm! Quick, while it's still hot, let's put it on the chocolate!"

Malcolm grabbed another spoon and both of them proceeded to scoop marshmallow out of the microwave and drop dollops of the gooey stuff onto the prepared s'more bases. They had more than one sticky blob on the floor where it plopped off of their spoons as they carried their burdens from the microwave to the table, but it didn't really matter much, since the floor was already covered in Jello. They topped their creations with the waiting cracker lids and then grinning at each other like idiots they took their first bites together.

"Mmmmmm!" they hummed simultaneously, rolling their eyes in rapture. After all, there's not much you can say with a mouth full of marshmallow.

When they'd eaten two s'mores apiece, Malcolm said, "I wonder if there's any cake?"

"Yeah," Trip replied, his eyes brightening, "and ice cream!"


End file.
